The Ice
by Greentreetall
Summary: In the ruins of Manhattan lives North America's largest prison, and the place I call home. With winter upon the island every inmate has the chance to escape, even me. If you can cross the ice, you're free. Most know it's impossible, others have died trying. I know it's impossible, but things are changing and the ice may be our only option.
1. Cryophobia

**S.M owns her characters, I own mine.**

**All mistakes are my own.**

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**January 16th, 2018 6:50 EST**

**Cryophobia - the fear of ice or frost.**

I run my palm over the rusting gate, my fingers trailing over one of the padlocks that line the opening. The corrosion is so thick that it leeches from the keyhole and crawls around the metal it's looped around, staining the once grey iron a blood orange.

The wind whips my hair around my cheeks, angry fingers tearing into my blistering skin as I try and shield my face from the bitter squall that swoops up and over the bridge. My toes are numb in the old and thinning boots that are wrapped around my legs, the tips of the plastic bags that line the insides flap against my legs as I shove my nose deeper into the collar of my coat.

There are shouts from down below me but I force my eyes away from the death. Not wanting the nightmares I turn my head into the wind hoping the howling will drown the screams that are soon to echo over the ice.

Although I know my mind is forcing me to think it, I feel the slight sway of the concrete beneath my feet and my knees begin to shake. I turn my head up to look at the towering beams of steel, eyeing the slight fray in the cables that arch up the highest part of the bridge and my stomach lurches at the amount of decay even metal can experience.

Tearing my eyes away from the corroding metal, I follow the chain link fence all the way back down to the crumbling concrete. I press my hands against the enclosure, wrapping my fingers through the holes I look on past the abandoned guard post, my eyes tracing the fading yellow lines that run down the middle of the road.

Men laugh from beneath me and my heart gives a hopeless lurch as I imagine them making it across the water and running back to their families. Their smiles as they pull their loved ones into their arms and kiss their faces.

But I can hear it. Like glass shattering the ice begins its thundering of cracks as they race towards their freedom. Curses float up to me as I press my forehead against the biting metal and force my mouth shut.

I shake my head at the thoughts of them being able to make it back.

_They're too far now. They wouldn't survive. _

I nod my head at the thoughts that trail through my mind but the pain of them dying lingers in my bones as they scream. The ice opens, I can hear the sudden rush of water and the abruptly silenced scream of one of the men.

I swallow past the sickness that fills my throat and close my eyes.

I count them as they fall.

_One._

_Two._

_Three. _

I wonder if where they all go is better, if somehow it's them that are the lucky ones and not the ones who have been here long enough to know.

I try to force the thought of them being free away from me. Scolding myself of envying the dead but I can't help but wonder if stepping out onto the ice really _is _our best chance to survive.

I try to remember that every year we are closer but the warm months are shrinking and colder are taking us under.

I wonder how many we can survive before we all start to wonder if walking out onto the ice is the only option.

I bite my lip and look around me wondering if they can hear me, my paranoia sitting on my shoulders makes me whip my head around and press my back against the fence.

I try to force my head away from the ice but as I look over the edge I have to wonder, will I be the next one to try?

I shake my head and push my body off the gate.

I throw the black waters one more look before walking away.

I just hope that it was fast.

And that they didn't suffer.

We do our share of that, but I would hope that their death was free of it.

Just that once.

_xxx_

The day I was convicted is fuzzy these days.

Maybe I'm pushing it away. Forcing my brain to file it away with all the other shit that doesn't matter anymore because honestly here I'm nothing but another person breathing someone else's air, and eating someone else's food.

I remember the days I would watch the prison on TV, those days are so clear while everything else is breaking away from my head leaving me to piece together a past I know I didn't live.

Mom and Dad would sit in the kitchen and talk about their days while I would sit on the floor, my elbows under my chin as I watched the inmates being led inside the gates by the guards. I would see the burning buildings outside my school window, smoke rising from the island. And I would sit outside my house and watch the people get dragged away from their homes, screaming they didn't do it, and that they were innocent. One thing I have learned here is that there aren't very many that were telling the truth on those days.

We are all guilty of something.

Even me.

I didn't come from a bad family. It would be easier to say I did, and that what I was convicted for made sense, it was in my genes. But my mom and dad loved me, and I loved them. I wasn't beaten or abused. My parents weren't criminals, never so much as missing a bill payment.

I grew up in the rich part of town, and my friends were all like me.

I was happy. _We _were happy.

My arrest made the local paper. My conviction the local news station.

Everyone wanted to see how I had fallen. That privileged little girl nothing but the dirt they all secretly thought I was.

Spoiled.

A brat.

Did they think I deserved what I got?

Possibly.

They believed what was written because the truth was easier to ignore. And they all wanted to say they knew me.

They knew the girl who murdered the high school English teacher.

Mr. Webster was twenty years my senior on the day of his death. A proud father of three and a devoted husband, he was the epitome of the perfect man.

I wonder if Mrs. Webster knew what her husband craved, or if the school had. I imagine his life would have been much different.

Mr. Webster was the perfect example of living your life on what if.

What if his past had caught up with him?

What if his daughter hadn't been scared to tell the police?

What if I hadn't been there that night?

I didn't matter. I stopped wondering what if when the first snow fell; it just didn't seem worth it then.

_xxx_

I do not travel above ground very often, avoiding the crowed main streets and darken alley as much as possible has kept me alive for this long.

There are no guards stationed anywhere in the dead city, we govern ourselves in a way that the weak are the easiest to target, the easiest to control and the easiest to kill.

The ancient subway tunnels run under the entire abandoned island making discreet travel easy.

I shove my hand deeper into my pockets as I step over a long since fallen lamp post and eye the grey slush that has come to replace snow these days. Shaking my feet of the icy water that leaks into the soles of my worn boots I move through the darkening streets to the gaping mouth of the subway. Glancing over my shoulder I wrap my hand around the rusting railing and take the steps quickly into the murky tunnel.

Jumping the last two steps I skate past the last rays of dying light that managed to follow me down the steps and move around the granite pillars I have come to memorize. Reaching into my pocket I pull out the dented lighter and flick the flint. Sparks burst from the tip before dying. I grunt, pursing my lips as I shake it before flicking it again.

The flame lights a circle around me in flickering shadows, faces dancing just beyond the glow I walk slowly as to not blow the spark out. The lockers lay like fallen dominos on top of one another against the molding tiled walls. I knell down in front of the bottom locker, caving in from the consent weight I have to pry open the distorted door. Dropping the heated lighter back into its resting spot, I slip my fingers into the space between the door and the frame and pull. The metal screeches as the stiff hinges protest the movements. I slip my hand into the gap and wrap my hand around the strap to the patchwork backpack and easing it from the confines of the rusted metal. I push the door with the heel of my boot back into place before standing up and swinging the bag over my shoulders and tightening the straps.

My knees crack as I stand, the sound echoing across the black room. I breathe in through my nose and move away from the mouth of the stairs, walking further into the darkness.

As my eyes adjust I can see the off white of the decaying tiles end into darkness, leaning forward I flick my lighter and look down at the aged subway car tracks. Rats squeal and run away from the faint glow that shines into their beady eyes. I grimace as they scramble over one and another to escape the light.

Bending my knees I drop down onto the tracks, wincing as the impact vibrates through my legs, I straighten, shaking my feet to rid the tingles that crawl up my calves and move along the once high voltage way.

Bricks arc up at the mouth of the abandoned tunnel as I flick my lighter and move under the arch. The tiny flame does nothing to light more than a foot in front of my eyes leaving everything around me darker than before.

I feel my way through the echoing tunnels like I have done every day for the last three years, shuffling my feet carefully in front of me as to not trip on a torn beam that are ripped up everywhere. My head throbs as I breathe, bringing the scent of decay into my body. Shivering I try and shake the feel of death off of my skin and out of my body.

Somewhere off in the maze of winding tracks, an ancient pipe drips, the water rings as it strikes the corroding iron. Above me the ground shakes as the people run along the swaying concrete. I breathe through my nose to stop the fear that slowly claws along my throat and push my feet to move faster.

Taking a sharp right I move away from the crowded areas of the prison and farther to the opposite end of the island. Soon the sounds above me fade away and I'm left counting my steps.

Stepping over the raised metal of the path I move to the slick stones of the wall. Running my fingers over the slippery rocks I brush my fingers over the rough metal ladder. Wrapping my hands around the first wrung I breathe deeply and step up. The iron shakes as I move causing my knees to rattle and sweat to break out along my temple. I shake my head and push my body higher, counting as I go.

When I reach the top I pause, resting my palm against the manhole cover I feel for the vibrations of feet, any sign that someone is up above me and waiting. Sighing when nothing happens I shove the old metal up and over to the side. Moon light leaks into the subway and I lift my head out to look around me. Snow has begun to fall again, thick wet flakes drowning my clothing as I pull my body from the ground. Silently as possible I replace the cover and sprint off of the exposed street and away of any watchful eyes, praying no one saw me.

_xxx_

I move quickly through the dark alleys, jumping the rusted garbage cans that lay toppled on their sides, their rotted contents spilled across the broken asphalt and decaying cardboard boxes now nothing but wet pills of mulch.

Coming to the end of the backstreet, I rush up the steps of the tarnished red metal door and knock softly where the door meets the concrete steps. The hinges squeal as someone unlocks the deadbolt and pulls the heavy iron open. A large man looks down at me with narrowed eyes and I return the gesture.

"You're late" he grumbles, his large pipe like arms wrap around his chest as he looks at me.

"That's the warm welcome you have for me?" I say as I move past him into the dark little room and toe off my ragged boots "No 'welcome home' no 'glad you're alive'? Honestly, where has all the love gone?"

With a shake of his head he closes the door and turns the locks back into place. Running a hand through his tangled mess of hair he rolls his eyes. "Welcome home Bella" he deadpans "glad you're alive" he looks down at his bare wrist "you're late."

I shrug as I move my coat from around my shoulders and drop it onto the old shaking chair by the door. I walk towards the small wood stove that sits in the corner of the room and sink to my knees to warm my hands against the soft waves of heat that gently lull from the black cast iron. "Three more tried today" I tell him as I watch the flames dance within the fire, flicks of orange and red twirling along the slightly blacked glass, trying to find a gap to freedom.

I look up at him and he nods, urging me on. I shake my head, sighing "They didn't even make it half way."

Emmett exhales and drops to the mildew ridden couch we rescued from the alley two years ago "fucking imbeciles." He shakes his head "When will they ever learn?" he looks at the curling wallpaper that lays in strips along the old carpeted floor.

"They just want to be free" I shrug as I turn back to the fire "is that so bad?" I cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth, shifting my eyes, I look at the side of his face as it falls.

"Of course they want to be free, Bella. We always want what we can't have." He sighs and folds his hands in his lap, eyes clouding; I know he isn't seeing out little home anymore but the life he had on the outside. Shaking his head to rid the memories, he turns to look me in the eyes, his so sad my heart aches for his "They knew this would be worse than a cell, giving us all this space to go, like the leash isn't on at all, but you know just as well as I do, that no matter what direction you take you always run out of room." I chew my lip as he looks at his hands. "It's human nature to want to escape a locked door, no matter how big the area inside it is, we always want to leave. But everything we have done, and everything we will do reflects on how much we belong here, and how much everyone else belongs out there." Emmett looks to the boarded up window and presses his lips together "we can crave freedom all we want, hope and pray for it, but the bottom line is, we don't _deserve_ to be free."

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	2. Dikephobia

**S.M owns all characters**

**All mistakes are my own.**

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**April 23****rd****, 2016 12:36 EST**

I sit at a table with my lawyer.

A man I didn't want but was appointed by my parents.

They still believe I was set up. That their little girl could have never done what had happened.

They sit behind me, behind that little wooden gate that block the audience from the defendant, the accuser and the jury.

My father's hand rests on my shoulder and I wonder if his arm is growing tired. I can hear my mother behind me, her soft sobs rolling against my ears.

She believes that because I can't see her, I can't hear her either.

I shake my head and sigh.

I watch the woman who is being questioned.

I don't know her.

She apparently knows me.

I want to shrug and wave on the next one but I fold my hand in front of me and listen as she tells her side of the story.

Internally I scoff as I watch her dap those overly made up eyes and her bright red lips quiver as she tells of the boom of the shoots, the scream of the Mr. Webster and the way the blood stained my face as I turned as she entered.

I turn to watch the jury as they listen to the poor woman recount of how much of a good man he was.

She wasn't there that day.

She didn't hear the shoots because there was only one.

She didn't see blood on my face because there was none.

She's lying.

She knows it; by the way she glances at me every so often. She's wondering why I'm not screaming about her lies.

The lawyer that has the floor is hammering out his questions to his fake witness, his face weathered under the florescent lights and I want to tell him the suit he's wearing doesn't hid the fact he's missed a few workouts.

He's on fire.

And he's winning the case for Mrs. Webster.

She's the woman sitting at the table across from mine.

Her eyes glacier as she stares ahead of her.

A perfect suit around her perfect frame.

I wonder if she goes to the salon to get her hair done for each court date we have.

There was a time when I wanted to tell her the truth about why I did it.

So maybe she could come to terms with who her husband had really been, and that maybe someday accept what happened and move on.

I know she would never understand.

And for the sake of her children I am grateful for that. It takes a certain type to understand why I looked into his grey eyes and pulled the trigger and that's not the type that should be raising kids.

There had been a time when I had _wanted _to take the witness stand and tell anyone who would listen what kind of person Mr. Webster had _actually _been.

I was naïve then, still holding on to the hope that there was some type of justice in the American government.

Not that what I had done deserved to be praised.

I had never deluded myself into thinking this would work out in the end for me.

But I _had _hoped that some righteousness would be brought upon those he had abused. That they would look at my face on TV and silently thank me for saving them.

But they hadn't.

They had been with the rest of them, screaming at me as I moved through the crowds.

They hid behind the façade that they didn't have any relation to this case because it's easier to lie.

And when I had wanted to be angry at the classmates I had known had been hurt by him I couldn't.

I didn't call them out.

I let them hurt in peace because sometimes you need the silence to heal.

The judge asks my lawyer if he wishes to cross examine the liar and he shakes his head.

He's lost as he shuffles papers that are blank.

The woman is dismissed and she steps down and walks past me, she doesn't meet my eyes.

A man is called next.

There isn't anything special about him.

He's a face you lose in the crowd without a second thought.

He swears to tell the truth and I wonder if he's going to lie like the other one.

She had sworn to.

Questions are fired again and I close my eyes.

I wish it was over and I would be sentenced.

It's a long time before the jury is sent to deliberate.

They had seen the evidence.

They had heard the stories.

It was time.

My father squeezes my shoulder and I pat his hand.

I'm comforting him more than he is me.

He's still hoping.

I'm not.

I know I'm guilty because I pulled the trigger.

Doesn't matter the reason behind it.

"Maybe…" my mother begins behind me and I stiffen.

"Not now" my father whispers behind me and I wonder if he mean not now while in court or not now while I'm sitting in front of them.

My mother sniffles but says nothing else and I sigh as I look at the lawyer beside me.

I don't remember his name but he's young, and he's nervous beside me.

He knows I did it and he's wondering if I'm feeling the need to snap again.

I want to roll my eyes but I'm tired.

They're gone three hours.

To my parents it's too short a time to have come to a verdict in my favour; to me they were gone too long.

The men and woman are ushered back to their seats before the judge asks for their decision.

A burly man stands and looks at the judge.

"We have, Your Honor. We the jury find the defendant, Isabella Swan, on the murder of Martin Webster, guilty."

The judge nods. He didn't expect a different outcome.

I didn't either.

He turns to me "Rise" I do "Isabella Swan, I find you guilty of murder in the first degree."

After that I'm not listening.

Life.

I got life impressment.

The bailiff comes over to me and clinks the cuffs around my wrists.

He clicks them tighter then necessary and I glare at the table in front of me.

Somewhere my mother is screaming.

The room is loud.

And I'm being led from the room.

I look at Mrs. Webster as I pass and I can see she's happy.

She can go home and tell her kids that I was caught.

She could hug her sons and comfort her daughter.

And she would never know that her husband had hurt their princess.

And that she would never tell.

And I have to wonder, where the hell is the justice in that?

**January 17****th****, 2018 Sometime in the morning EST**

I wake before Emmett, and for that small victory I'm grateful.

I press my lips together as I watch his hulking body rise and fall with sleep. I step over him and move quickly grabbing my boots and coat.

I pull my hat over my ears and stuff my feet into my boots, pulling the laces tightly around my legs. I snatch my backpack from the ground and tighten the straps before grabbing the blanket that had been over my body and drape it over his.

He mutters something and I turn towards the door.

"Be back before dark this time" he mutters and I stop.

Turning on my heels I salute him "Aye, aye captain."

Emmett grumbles before turning over on his side and resuming his snoring.

I roll my eyes and pull at the worn tape that covers the pep hole on the door.

The murky alley holds no unwanted visitors, and I silently curse the fresh fallen snow.

Placing it back I pull open the door and squeeze out the crack. "Lock it" I mutter to Emmett and he grunts.

I pull it shut and glance around.

This side of the city is mostly empty. Nothing but old shipping yards and ancient crack houses, unlike the more populated areas of the island where the food is delivered in the warmer months and the more furnished homes had once been.

Glancing to my right I grab one of the rotting cardboard boxes and drag it behind me as I walk, making sure to swing it and disturb all the snow in the once heavily populated alley. Beside mine and Emmett's tiny nook five other doors line the walls around me and for that I'm thankful.

Peeking out around the corner I eye the empty street before throwing the folded box and running towards the manhole in the middle of the street. Crouching I heave it open and scurry inside. Clutching the rusty bars I lug the cover back over and descend into darkness.

**_xxx_**

Walking the darkness, I breathe against the bitter chill the always lingers in the tunnels below the city.

Turning away from our side of the island I move silently towards the heavy populated areas.

I can hear the creaks of the buildings above me. The way age has begun to take hold of their frames I wonder how long it will take for the first to crumble.

Shaking my head I turn down right and move a couple blocks away from the majority of the population.

Running my clothed covered fingers along the wall I count my steps.

My feet echo through the tunnel as I move and I cruse the sound that I make. The balls of my feet press against the gravel that lies between the dead tracks and I glare into the darkness as the crunch fills the emptiness.

When my fingers find nothing but air I stop and pull myself up the high wall of the subway terminal and run across the exposed tiles. Pressing my back against the wall I glance around the corner of the stairs towards the dim morning light and wait before running across and towards the lockers.

Pulling off my bag I rip open the zipper and pull the small book and pen and slide them into my pocket before pushing it into one of the mangled lockers before standing and moving away towards the stairs.

Walking into the light I blink past the discomfort and move across the road and away from everyone else.

Turning the block I find people.

Three men hand outside a building their bodies tightly together as if to keep warm, but I know they're guarding their home.

They hear me as I move away from them, their eyes following me as I move across the already well packed snow and away from them.

I know they won't come after me.

I have nothing they could want, and what they can't see isn't worth risking losing their home to someone.

I turn the corner away from them and make my away towards the abandoned building across the street.

The doors had once been glass, the whole foyer had once been glass, now it cracks under my feet as I move through the snowy lobby and heave open the door to the stairs.

The smell of human waste fills my nostrils as I step inside the enclosed space. I grimace as I wrap my hand around the banister and start the long trek up the twenty flights.

"Bell" rasps a voice as I move and stop to wave at the skinny man that sleeps under the stairs.

"Hey Mr. G how's it going today?" I hang over the handrail to watch as the plastic trap move with the body underneath.

"Fucking cold" he spits from under his shelter and I nod.

"Two more months if we're lucky" I say.

He snorts from under the plastic and it shakes.

Someday I find myself wondering what Mr. G actually looks like seeing as I've never seen his face before but I figure it's better I just don't know.

"We're never lucky" he coughs a laugh.

"Nope" I pop the 'p' and push myself back up and move back up the stairs. "See yeah" I chuckle as I move.

"Bell" he calls after me and I stop.

"Yeah?"

"What's today?"

I pause, pulling the book from my pocket I flip to my page "Dikephobia."

"What is it?" he asks.

"The fear of justice" I say.

He hums and his trap moves as he nods. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow" I confirm and run up the steps.

I can hear Mr. G whistle the entire time I move.

_The sun'll come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there will be sun._

**_xxx_**

The wind pulls at my hair as I move along the snow covered roof. I brush my hands over the bench that sits in the middle of the space and sit, pulling my legs under me, I remove my book and pen from my pocket.

Scanning my eyes over the familiar place, I watch the soot gently fall to cover the pristine snow, darkening the white to a faint grey. The sun, diluted by the consent cloud cover lights the prison with a murky grey glow, casting light on the tiny crystals of ice and making them shine.

Opening the book, I uncap my pen.

_Dear Alice, _

_It's morning again. _

_Another day has passed in a lifetime of hours. _

_I'm sitting on the roof of the office building your father once worked in. Like I do every other day. _

_I remember you once said he worked on the tenth floor and every time I pass it I find myself wondering what I would find if I open that door. _

_An old life long ago left behind? Or another empty hall in another empty building. _

_Sometimes it's just better to imagine then find out the truth._

_You know that better than anyone._

_In your last letter, almost three months ago, you told me your brother had managed to get himself a ticket here. _

_Just for five years, those were your words. Even in writing I could tell you put empathies on the 'just'._

_I haven't seen him yet, and sometimes I find myself wondering if he survived the first night. _

_I hope he did. _

_But maybe it's better if he didn't. _

_But you don't want to hear that. _

_It's been a long time since we talked, and I wonder if it's the snow that keeps your letters, or your husband. _

_I have to smile at that, I saw it in the paper almost five months ago when they delivered supplies. You never mentioned, and I guess I was waiting for the right moment to tell you I knew. _

_Or maybe I was waiting for you to tell me about it. _

_I don't suppose you ever really will._

_Sometimes we just can't bring our past and present together._

_Which in your case, I know is for the best._

_I'm going to ask you again, Alice, because I always do, has it gotten any easier over the years? To live your life again, like nothing truly happened?_

_You never answer when I ask and I know you won't but it does truly trouble me to think about what it must have been like for you. And the others. _

_I know you will tell me I have other things to worry about, like surviving, which for you is an easy thing to think but you haven't lived like I have, sometimes it's nice to worry about another person's problems. _

_You never have to deal with the outcomes when you do._

_Is it selfish to wish I could speak with you face to face?_

_Your parents would never allow it, although you are a grown woman now. _

_Your husband would surly ban the idea from ever crossing your mind. _

_Not that I blame him. _

_But I do miss you. _

_Have you been keeping an eye on my parents? _

_I know in your last letter you said my mother's belly had grown, and my father's face glowed. _

_It's hard to believe I'm going to be a sister, not that they will ever tell their child about me. _

_You'll look out for him when he comes, won't you? _

_I don't know when I decided he was going to be a boy, but it feels better then calling him an 'it' don't you think?_

_I have tried to write to them over the last two years, but they don't respond. _

_You know this, but sometimes I have to write it again or it doesn't seem real. _

_They couldn't accept what happened. _

_But what sane person would?_

_I push away the pain of knowing they ignore me because it's the right thing to do, to let them move on. _

_Emmett and I have moved to a safer home. _

_I remember you saying you worried about the last one and you were right. _

_I will always have the scar along my eyebrow. _

_You don't need the details, and frankly I wouldn't tell you even if you did. _

_But we're safer now. And Emmett never leaves anyways. _

_He got word from his wife. She's sleeping with another man. Filing for divorce. _

_He's completely heartbroken, but he doesn't blame her. _

_In some ways I do. _

_His crime was petty compared to mine. _

_He didn't take a life, but a car. _

_Two to be exact. _

_He wasn't good at it. _

_But what do you expect from someone who is being forced to do it?_

_The jury found him guilty of grand theft auto with a deadly weapon._

_ Gave him ten years because a gun he didn't know was in the bag._

_She couldn't wait. _

_And wouldn't you believe, she found comfort in the very man who forced Emmett in the first place. _

_If you could see me, you'd see me shaking my head. _

_I think if you had met him in different circumstances you would have really liked him. _

_Rosalie too, that's his wife. _

_He loves her so much, Alice and now she's gone. _

_ I just don't understand how someone as good as Emmett, could have nothing but bad happen to him. _

_How is that even remotely fair? _

_I know you can't answer that, and that you would tell me its better not to think about these kinds of things, but its hard when I can't understand how fate can be that cruel. _

_I know you would tell me not to think about it, so I'm going to shake my head and force it away. _

_I remember way back when you told me your brother had gotten married. _

_You said she was just awful, and I remember laughing as I remembered how awful your brother used to be. _

_A perfect match._

_You said they were married in Cuba, but you never said if you went? _

_I know you hated her but you must have gone for your brother. _

_Are they still together? _

_And better yet, did Edward like the letter I wrote to him? _

_I can imagine you laughing as you read it before passing it to him, and I know you would have read it, because you're just that nosey. _

_I wonder what he did to get here, and for only five years. _

_I suppose I'll have to wait another month before I can get an answer. By then they should be coming to the bridges again. _

_I won't be able to write much more until then anyways, having used up most of my supplies writing to you over these last few weeks. _

_You're the only person I really talk to these days and I cruse the snow when it comes each year. _

_But you know that. _

_I hope you had a good Christmas, and that you got those diamond earring you had been drooling over. And also a good New Year, and that your hubby kissed you when the year was over. _

_I hope soon we can speak again, but until then I'm sending you my love as I watch the skyline. _

_With all my love,_

_Bella. _

Sighing I fold the paper carefully back into the past page of the book and tug the pen back into my pocket.

I turn and watch the grey sky and wonder what she's doing right now, and if she's happy like I hope she is.

Fingering her last letter I pull it from the front and open it.

_Bella, _

_The outside world hasn't gotten any better since my last letter, only colder, and I know soon the bridges are going to close down. _

_I hope I will hear from you before that and you me, but I fear we will endure silence for some time. _

_I hate the thought of you alone, but I know you don't want me worry, just as I don't wish for you to worry about me._

_It's an ongoing cycle that we have perfected over the years. _

_Although I don't have much, I do have some news. It seems Edward has managed to land himself with you. Just for five years though, so we can only hope he enjoys himself. _

_You should know, I'm rolling my eyes. _

_Like I told you I would, I have been to see your parents. _

_They're fine, I suppose. They don't talk about you, and your pictures are no longer hanging on the walls._

_I cried for you then. Right there in front of them as I looked at the spaces where the frames once were. _

_Your mom is getting bigger each week, and they're excited. _

_I don't know how I feel about that, just as you probably are confused. _

_I know you will say they deserve to be happy, but I wish they wouldn't lock you away. _

_I hope everything is as okay as it can be, and that you are healthy. _

_Talk to you soon, my friend. _

_Yours, _

_Alice. _

Blinking away the tears that always start I push myself up from the bench and move towards the door.

**_xxx_**

Mr. G doesn't speak to me as I move down the stairs again but he never does. I push open the door and walk across the glass towards the sidewalk.

Turning on my heel I don't stop as I move through the bodies that have started to fill the sidewalks. People move to stand closer to me and shove my hands into my pockets to protect the contents.

I glare as a woman moves beside me, her hand brushing my arm.

"Back the fuck off" I grit between my teeth and she snaps her hand back. I push through the throng and move ahead of them "damn pick pocket-ers" I mutter

Someone grunts beside me and I turn to look.

A scruffy looking man walks a few paces beside me, his shoulders hunched towards the ground and he watches his feet. His hair is longer then it probably was outside, and his face sports a bushy beard.

I turn away from him and walk across the street to turn down the block.

I know he's following me as I round the building and walk down the alley, his footsteps mirroring my own.

"Can I help you?" I snap as I stop and turn around.

He's only a few steps behind me, but I can feel his heat from where he stands. Shaking his hair out of his face, his green eyes find mine.

"Isabella" he sighs, relieved and moves to lean against one of the brick walls that surround us "you have no idea how many hours I have spent waiting outside that damn building for you." He grunts and nods towards his father's old

"Edward" I sigh before cocking my head as I study him "you look like shit."

He looks down at his dirty cloths and purses his lips "I've looked better." He shrugs.

"You look like you rolled in garbage."

"It's not exactly the Hilton, here" he grumbles.

"I know" I cross my arms over my chest. "You were waiting for me?"

"For the last month now" he frowns "I never saw you leave before."

"Gotta be inconspicuous if you want to survive" I shrug.

"You're good" he says.

"Finally found my calling" I lift my arms towards the city.

"And here I thought you wanted to be a lawyer" he chuckles.

"Har Har," I grimace "was there actually something you wanted?" I ask as I eye him.

Alice will be happy to know he did actually survive the first night.

"Alice said I would find you at Dad's old building."

"And?" I tap my foot against the ground when he says nothing "I don't have all day Edward. Very little time actually."

"I need your help" he mutters.

I cock my head and cup my ear "I don't think I heard you correctly, would you repeat that?"

"I said I need you help" he says again, still too quietly but I sigh.

"You know, if I was as cruel a person as everyone said I was I'd make you yell it at the top of your lung it but seeing as that would attract people, I'm going to take your pathetic excuse of asking me for help and answer it. No."

I make to move around him when he pushes himself in front of me "Please, Bella" he says, his eyes meeting my own. "I know we never agreed with each other, but that was out there, in here…" he trails off.

"In here, you need my help to survive." I sum up.

Edward sighs, and rakes his hand over his face before opening his eyes to look at me "Yes."

I purse my lips as I watch him, hating that I can see Alice in his features.

She'd want me to watch out for Edward.

To make sure he made it out and back into the world.

I growl under my breath, grinding my teeth "This is for Alice, not you" I snap as I step around him and walk out of the alley.

I look over my shoulder at his motionless form "keep up."

His body snaps to attention as long legs stride to walk beside me "thank you Bella" he murmurs.

"Don't be so quick to thank me, you're about to enter the worst place on earth."

We move around the corner and walk straight into the mouth of the prison.

Thousands of people move around each other. Some screaming about what they have to sell, others not even bothering to pay, just grabbing what they want and running.

Dried meats hang from ropes strung from old telephone poles and my stomach turns at the thought of what kind of animal it came from.

Pregnant women waddle through the people, their hand pressed firmly against their bulging bellies as they make their way through the angry people. I look away from their scarred faces as they walk past us. Beside me, I can feel Edward stiffen as he watches them and I shake my head.

"Don't" I whisper to him.

I can see dirty children running through the legs of people, their scarcely booted feet slipping on the iced street.

The smell of unwashed human is so strong here my eyes water and my stomach twists.

"Fuck" Edward mutters beside me, his face contorted at the stench.

"Quiet, we don't need attention" I say under my breath and duck my head as I move. Edward follows me, his body tight against my own.

We weave through the inmates that fill the streets to the sidewalk and along the side of the buildings.

I eye the carts that stand to the side of me. Their broken wheels jut out from under the heavy wooden stalls.

"Do nothing, say nothing, and hope to whatever god you believe in that no one notices you" I say before letting my hand trail away from me as I pluck can from a cart beside me. The woman who mans it doesn't notice and I don't stop.

I do it again as we pass another food cart, stuffing the cans I collect into my coat pockets before we pass through the heavier parts of the market. I push my body through the people, their heady breath mingling along my skin. I shudder and shove harder. The crowd gives away as we move away from the carts and I dart down the street, turning the corner and down the alley across from us.

Edward never leaves my side as we move and not long after I stop to listen and sigh when I hear nothing.

Doubling back around, I move through the barren city with my man-magnet firmly attached to my side.

It's past noon by the time we make it back to the subway entrance and I dragged a mitted hand over my face. "Emmett is going to kill me" I grumble as I jump the steps and move into the darkness.

"Emmett?" asks Edward beside me as I bend down and pull my bag from the locker. Shoving the cans I stole and the book and pen inside I shoulder its weight and tighten the straps.

Flicking my lighter I meet Edward's gaze and frown "my friend" I say and move towards the tracks. I jump down and wait from Edward to follow. I look up and he's looking down at me "coming?"

He nods and jumps down.

"What kind of friend?" he asks as I move through the mouth of the tunnel.

"A none of your business friend" I snap as our feet echo.

"Not much of a conversationalist, are you?"

"Nope" I say and he sighs.

"Bella—"

"Shh" I snap as we move farther through the system "it's unlikely we're the only ones down here, and I don't want to die because you can't keep your damn mouth shut."

After that Edward doesn't say anything, and I don't try to start conversation.

It's quiet, until we hear the scream.

* * *

**a/n: like it? Let me know. **

**Thanks loves. **


	3. Carnophobia

**M.S owns all characters.**

**All mistakes are my own.**

**Carnophobia- Fear of Meat**

* * *

**February 16****th****, 2017 4:35 pm EST**

_Dear Edward, _

_I'm writing to you as I sit upon a very tall building. I can see for miles every which way I look and everyone below me looks very small. I guess within my world what I am seeing would be called beautiful. Although it would hardly hold a candor to the beauty of what you must be looking at right now. _

_There is no sunset, or flowers blooming around me. Their sweet smells aren't lingering along my taste buds nor is there any sweet confection's awaiting the moment I will slice them, linking my arm with another and laying it along their tongue. _

_I can see the bay right now, and the ice that still lingers along the edges of the harbour is stark against the angry blackness beyond. If I close my eyes I can imagine the blue waters of the ocean that lap against the white sands beneath your feet. _

_I have never seen that kind of ocean, and I suppose I never will. _

_I will not see a lot of things before my time is over, but I'm not as sad as you must think, and this is not a sad letter. _

_I don't really recall our last conversation face to face although I imagine it didn't go very well seeing how little I thought of you, and you thought of me in return. _

_Although it's been enough time to safely assume you have grown away from your shallow and conceited views of the world, I can't help but think of you as a young man growing into them even more so. And of course, remembering how I knew you as I did, and I can safely assume the latter to be true more than the former. _

_But fear not, my conclusions are stuck here with me and will never reach the ears of your beloved. _

_You are safely going to get laid for the rest of your life._

_Not that I delude myself into thinking that my thoughts would hold such sway over your bride but it's nice to imagine importance when you have nothing but the feeling of insignificance._

_I would ask you tell me about her, but I can only imagine you rolling your eyes at this paper and scoffing at me like I was actually there, your eyes casted down, and looking at me like I am nothing more than some silly little girl chasing a dream, so I'll refrain from trying to maintain a sort of connect after you read this. _

_And you won't have to worry about the men in your Sorority finding out your talking to some "psycho bitch" as you once called me. _

_Save you the embarrassment. _

_You can't see me obviously, but I'm rolling my eyes at your petty thoughts. _

_But I have to remind myself that you're ignorant to the things outside your life and I suppose that's for the best. _

_There isn't much else to say seeing as I have no advice to give on a wedding night so I'll just hope you're friends do. _

_And I'll hope the life you live will bring you what you always wanted and that the wedding is/was, depending on when you get this, beautiful. _

_And I'll hope the white of her dress blinded you and that you never took your eyes off her as she moved along the sand. _

_And I'll hope that your cake was the finest desert you have ever tasted and you could live another twenty years and still remember the way it burst along your tongue. _

_And I'll hope you were happy, and that on your wedding night you don't ejaculate prematurely. _

_I hear that can really ruin the mood. _

_Bella. _

**January 17****th****, 2018 two hours since leaving home am EST **

I can hear his heartbeat as it smashes against his rib cage. The way his feet shift against the stones beneath us. His breath whoosh between his teeth as he turns to face the beckoning mouth of the tunnel. Like the mouth of a beast, it gapes open filled with sick blackness and the stench of death. I can hear the way the bones crunch just beyond my range of vision.

Tightening my fists, I turn away from the sounds that echo along the iced walls of the tunnel and breathe through my nose.

"Don't" I whisper to him and close my eyes.

"Don't?" he exclaims and I slap my mitted hand across his mouth.

Bring my face close to his eyes I hiss "_Don't._" I can fell the way his body tightens underneath my hand, his anger welling up along his skin. "If you want to live, don't say anything, don't do anything, just move, and pray they didn't hear us" I whisper before jerking my hand from his face and turn away from him and moving through the tunnel, keeping the ball of my feet light against the crunching stones.

I can hear his feet as they follow behind before moving to walk beside me. "We have to help her" he hisses and I stop to look where I think his eyes are.

"We _can't _help her" I snap, trying to keep my voice low. "She's _dead_."

"You don't know that" he snaps back.

"Yeah, I do" I sigh and drag my hand along my mouth "What you heard back there? That was the last breath she took." I can hear his breathing, it's too loud. "They would have slit her throat, cut her wrist and dug out her thighs before you even got close to them."

"What the fuck are you taking about?" his voice is rising.

"Shut up" I snap. "They'll hear you."

"I don't care if they hear me. What the hell is going on?"

"You'll care is they take you too" I snap and turn away from him "we can't talk here, it's too dangerous, we have to keep moving."

Edward doesn't speak again but I can hear the huff of each angered breath he takes, his feet slapping against the stones underfoot no matter how much I cringe with each step.

Every fall of my feet feels like ten as I maneuver the tracks and time feels like it's too slow. Trying to even my breathing I take the last turn and stop at the ladder.

"Here" I mutter and flick my lighter to outline the metal before us. "It's slippery" I warn as I begin my ascent. Slipping the manhole cover to the side I look around before pulling myself up and waiting for Edward.

Sliding back the metal plate I look over my shoulder at him and motion towards the alley farthest down the block.

Again I look around us, at the empty street and the melting snow as the sun begins to beat through the heavy cloud cover.

Nodding to the slush beneath our feet I pray that the rest of it will be gone before anyone else comes along and moves towards the alley. Slipping down I move up the stairs of our door and knock along the edge.

I can hear Emmett from behind as he grumbles and peeps out to us and I wave at the tiny hole.

Edward moves up behind me as Emmett opens the door and folds his arms over his chest. I huff and push past him into the dank room and kick off my boots.

"Who's this?" asks Emmett as Edward follows in behind me and stands there as Emmett relocks the door.

"Edward" I pull the cans my coat tossing them onto the couch and dropping my bag "Friend's brother."

"Safe?" he asks.

I raise a brow "You think I'd bring him back if he wasn't?"

"You've done stupider shit" he shrugs and Edward chuckles. I narrow my eyes at them both.

"Gee, thanks, you always say the nicest things" I deadpan, unzipping my coat and dropping it onto a chair.

Ignoring me, Emmett turns to Edward and shakes his hand "Emmett, grand theft auto with a deadly weapon, ten years." Edward takes his hand and shakes it slowly, eyeing the giant before him.

"Emmett" I reprimand.

Emmett rolls his eyes and pulls his hand from Edward's "Bella here thinks a sentence is no one's business but their own, I on the other hand very much like to know what I'm up against right away."

I look at Edward over Emmett's shoulder "It's like comparing dick size with him." I roll my eyes "Ain't got anything to do with being cautious."

"So crass" Emmett shakes his head and flops back down on the couch and looks at Edward. "So what you in for, man?"

Edward frowns at him and presses his lips together.

"Emmett" I say again and grab the cans from the couch to bring them over to the card table near the door "just drop it, will you?"

Emmett leans forward and rests his elbow on his knee, cupping his chin "Bella's embarrassed of me."

I shake my head and look at Edward "He's got agoraphobia and hasn't had a conversation with anyone but me in two years." I look at Emmett "I'm not embarrassed, he's got no social skills whatsoever."

"Don't diagnose me" he frowns and looks at the door "I can leave whenever I want to, I just don't want to."

"Denial" I sing.

"Agoraphobia?" asks Edward, speaking for the first time.

"Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place" I answer, reading from the page marked _Emmett _in my book.

"Bella likes to play doctor" says Emmett still frowning.

"First step to recovery is acceptance" I mock and line the cans along the table.

Edward moves over towards me and pulls out the second and last rickety chair before falling into it.

"Hard time?" asks Emmett as he eyes Edward.

Edward nods and leans his head back "Wasn't exactly fun" he mutters.

"It's not supposed to be" I mumble and flip to the last page of my little book and run my finger down the list.

_F-C=17_

_C-E=2P, 2T, 2Sw, 5pS, 1C, 1pB_

_C-B=2P, 3T, 3Sw, 5pS, 1C, 1pB_

_S-W=56_

_S-C=5_

_S-B=3_

"F-C seventeen?" asks Edward looking across the table.

I cut my eyes over to Emmett and he shrugs. Biting my lip I look up at Edward "Food, Cans equals seventeen."

"Codes?" he raises a brow.

"I can't risk someone stealing it and finding out we have stuff they could use" I shrug.

"And the others?" he nods towards the rest.

Sighing I say "The C stands for clothes, the E and B, our names. P is pants, T is t-shirts, Sw is sweaters, pS is pairs of socks, C is coats, pB is pair of boots" running over my numbers I cross of the number of can and add six more.

_F-C=23_

"So you catalogue everything?"

"Pretty much" I nod and run my finger down the list "S-W is Supplies, Wood. S-C is Supplies, Candles and S-B is Supplies, Blankets." I look back up at him "Gotta keep an eye on these sorta things, isn't much of it this time of year and people get desperate."

"Get stupid" grumbles Emmett.

"That too" I nod and look at Edward. "First timers like you mostly" he twists his lips. "They get cocky, get stupid and then when the first snow hits they got nothing but cheap weapons and shit places to sleep. No warmth, no protection. They die first."

"No one helps them?" asks Edward and I flick my eyes to his.

"These aren't good people, Edward. Would you help a murderer on the outside?"

"It's not the same thing" he argues.

"They didn't just magically change when they crossed the bridge" I say "they're still the same rapist, molesters and murderers that were on trial, just now they're going to be the ones that die."

"Must you always be so morbid?" asks Emmett.

"You do it to" I remind him and watch Edward's eyes as they dance from the door to my face.

"Edward" I sigh and rub my face "I know every moral bone in your body is telling you to go out and try and help all those defenceless people, to try and ease the suffering they must feel. Trust me, _I know._ But what you need to understand is that if you gave them even the slightest chance they would mug you and probably kill you without a second thought."

Edward opens his mouth and I know he's going to tell me that not everyone here is a murderer and I nod my head because I know but "The island changes you, you do things you would have never even thought you were capable doing because death was on the line, and no matter how good you once were, once your life is threatened, there is very little you won't do to insure you do survive. It's how it is."

"It can't be like that for everyone" he shakes his head "you're not like that" he looks at me and I swallow past the lump in my throat.

Beyond us I can hear Emmett shift in his seat as his eyes fall on my face.

Looking up at Edward's broken face I shake my head, my head full as I lick my dry lips "I am the _perfect _example" I say, my voice hollow and I look back at my notebook.

After that, Edward has nothing to say.

He just stares.

And I know.

All he sees is the monster I have become.

_**xxx**_

**May 16****th****, 2017 9:30 am EST**

_Dear Mom, _

_You are never going to read this, and in that I can find a small amount of comfort among all the pain that thought brings me. _

_Within the comfort I can voice the feelings I have gathered and the hate I have begun to spin for you and Dad. _

_I don't want to hate those who gave me life, but oh, what a life I was given. _

_I can't blame you for the things I have done, or the things I will do because to blame you is like to blame God for the actions of his followers. He merely gave live to them, nothing more and nothing less. _

_His words are there when they need comfort, just as yours are when I need mine but I know what I have done, I have done on my own. _

_I wonder, if you knew what I have done since I have last seen you, would you recognize my scarred soul? I am so broken now, a shadow of what I once was that I don't even know who I am. _

_Or who I am meant to be. _

_With the knowledge that you will never lay eyes on these words I can confess what my pains to you without judgement. _

_It was November and it was so cold. The first snow had just fallen and it was like a wet sludge was falling from the grey sky. _

_I had not met Emmett by that point and I was alone. _

_I had spent the first seven months of my sentence sweating through the clothes I had brought on my back and fighting with the other inmates at one of the crowded water pumps. _

_People here don't avoid me like they did outside. I never thought I would, but I miss the emptiness being with you brought me. _

_At least I was alone. _

_The heat here in the summer months is unbearable at times. So thick that it sticks to your skin as you move and you're drowning in the water in the air. It clings to anything, and weighs everything down. Slicking it with water and rot. A hundred times over I had contemplated cutting my hair but I couldn't bring myself to part with it, it was my last connection to the world outside the one I now lived in, so I tied it up on my head and tried to deal with the heat that was ever there. _

_People wear so much less here in the months when the sun beats against our burning flesh. Shorts cut so high and shirts sleeves ripped away to bring some sort of relief. _

_I was one of the many who did this, cut my jeans and tore at my shirts to stop the temperature. _

_It helped. _

_Until the sun stopped and cold leeched. _

_They don't tell you this but it doesn't gradually cool down on the island. One day I was dying from the heat, curled up near a dumpster, seeking the shade it brought against the heated asphalt and the next, when my eyes opened again, I could see my breath in the air. _

_And I, like so many others, had but the scraps of clothing the summer gave me left to cover my iced skin. _

_I was going to die. _

_Because I had been stupid, because I hadn't thought ahead and planned what I would do when the burn stopped and the cold began. _

_I had nothing to my name but the leather bound notebook you had given me and small backpack that housed my single hair tie, pen, watch and small pocketknife I had traded for. _

_Nothing to keep me alive in the long months that would follow the first snow. _

_At first I had been desperate, breaking into people's homes, only to be shot at and stabbed at. I can still remember the burn as the bullet grazed my arm and shattered the glass behind me. I don't know if it had meant to miss, or if they had been warning me to leave, the only compassion left here either way it was the last time I attempted to steal from people who had been here longer then I._

_It's funny, when the thought of dying is ever there in the back of your mind things stop making sense like they once did. _

_Things stopped mattering. _

_What did bathing matter when my heart was going to stop soon?_

_What did eat matter when soon; I would be nothing but food for the animals here on the island?_

_When you're so close to dying, you do things you never believed you could, and they don't matter either because you want to live, even if that means taking another life. _

_I am not a good person, Mom. _

_I will never be someone people look up too. _

_Nor will I be able to proudly say I have lived a life free of sin._

_But before that night, I could say that without a doubt I had lived a life free of regret. _

_I can't say that anymore. _

_I don't what his name was. Or what colour his eyes were. _

_In my head all I remember is the grey of the stone beneath his head and red that ran along his lips. _

_I had been following him and he had been sloppy. _

_Making it so easy to track him. _

_He didn't even look behind him. _

_I want to use his recklessness against him and I want to imagine him as a bad person like the courts deemed him to be. But how can I call him bad when I was the one who took his life?_

_Everything in my life had made a mosaic of sense to me, pieces I put together from my life to bring me to that point. I had never meant for me to be who I was but when I had become it I needed to make it seem just. So I placed together the parts I wanted to remember and threw away the ones I didn't to make a sculpture of memories. _

_But when the metal bar smacked against the back of his head and he fell forwards, and I heard the crack of his nose and the crack of his head, everything I made my life out to be broke. _

_And I was broken. _

_And nothing made sense. _

_Panic bubbled inside of me, running along my skin as I bent forwards and stripped him of his pants, sweater, coat and boats before tugging his backpack from his lifeless body and running away. _

_I tried to tell myself that he had been bad, how else had he ended up on the island? But when I saw the track marks along his skin, there was no denying how innocent he was compared to how tainted I was. _

_And everything I had told myself about how I was different from everyone here._

_How my crime had been for the better of mankind. _

_Was wasted. _

_Lies. _

_It didn't matter that I hadn't meant to do it, I had still done it. _

_I am no better than anyone here. _

_Just another murderer living on the island. _

_And another one that will die here too. _

_**xxx**_

**January 17****th****, 2018 12:02 and counting pm EST**

Through the narrow gaps between the buildings the twelve chimes of the clock shimmer in the air.

Sighing, I nod my head and slip my fingers between the pages of the book.

"Better?" asks Emmett, looking up at me and I nod.

Edward eyes us both and I purse my lips before saying "My watch died two months ago."

"And?" he cocks an eyebrow and I narrow my eyes.

"Bella has an issue with not knowing the time" answers Emmett.

"You have OCD about time?" Edward asks, his brow still raised.

"I'm not obsessed" I snap at him "I just like knowing."

"And you don't think that makes you a little crazy?"

"No" I fold my arms over my chest "I think everything else I do makes me crazy, knowing what time it is, is the only sane thing about me."

"Good to know."

I stare at him as he stares at me before looking away and back at my notebook. "Carns were down in the tunnels this morning" I mumble as I run my fingers over the faded library stamp on the 25th page of my Phobia pocket dictionary.

I can hear the couch springs squeal as Emmett jumps up and stalks towards me "And you just thought to mention it now?" he's close to yelling but I don't look up.

"Thought it best to leave it until things were better settled" I look up at Edward as his face begins to pale.

"Carns?" he mutters, his eyes on the floor.

"Carnivores" spits Emmett and begins to pace.

"How many?" Emmett stops and asks me.

"I don't know. Three, maybe four. We didn't see them. Heard them."

"You mean they were going…?" asks Edward, his eyes reaching mine and I nod.

"Yeah they were."

Edward places a hand over his mouth and shakes his head "_Cannibalism? _They're fucking eat _people?_"

"Sick fucks" snarls Emmett.

"Does the government know about this?" asks Edward now pacing with Emmett. "They must know."

"And if they did?" I ask him. He stops and looks at me.

"Then they could stop it" he leaves off the "duh".

Tapping my fingers on the table, I close my book and look up at him. "They aren't going to stop it, Edward. The government? They don't care what happens here. Once you're on the island, everyone writes you off until the day your sentence is over and if you don't show up to the Main Gate you're either almost dead or dead. They don't send out search parties, or announce our name on the speakers. You don't show up, you don't leave. They don't care what happens here, as long it doesn't make it to the outside world. We're ghosts, and everything that happens here is nothing but a Faerie Tale parents tell their children when they're about to be naughty. "

Edward's shaking his head, denying everything I'm telling him. "They wouldn't just leave us."

"Why wouldn't they? We're nothing to the suitable society out there. We're the defectives. Why would they waste resources on defects?"

"Bella" Edward stresses my name "they're _eating _people."

"I know _Edward_" I snap and stand. "I've been here longer, seen worse, done worse, I know what happens here." I move towards him. "We do what we can to stop them but they're like rodents, crawling the sewers and feeding on the weak. You see a Carn, you kill on sight, but that doesn't mean three more won't come and replace that one."

"So what? We just live with it?" he spits.

"Look around you, Edward" I raise my hand and sweep the tiny room "What other choices do you really think we have? You think this is the life I wanted? You think I spent my childhood dreaming of living everyday not knowing if I would survive?"

"You chose this Bella" he reminds me, his voice a hiss.

I rub my face, breathing through my nose "You're right Edward; I made a choice, one I know you can't understand that landed me where I am right now, but what you gotta understand is that we have to live with a lot of shit. Something's we can change, but most we can't. Carns are part of the island. A part of your life now. Stay away from their nesting ground. Keep your head down and finish your five years with nothing but the memories scarring you. Don't walk away with real ones."

I turn away from him and grab my coat from the chair, shoving my arms through the sleeves.

"What do you mean you made a choice I can't understand?" he demands his hand wrapping around my arm.

I turn to look at him "I murderer a man, Edward. Looked into his eyes and pulled the trigger." I match his stare "I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel remorse. I didn't feel anything. He _deserved _to die, Edward. He did _things _to people I cared about, and he _deserved _it. How can you understand what it's like to take a man's life and feel _nothing_? He was a bad person, but so am I. That's what you can't understand, the knowledge that even though you thought it was for the better of those people, you were still evil enough to do it." I jerk my arm away from his, grabbing my backpack and pulling it over my shoulder, shoving my feet into my boots and grabbing my notebook and dictionary from the table.

"I'm going to the bridge" I say to Emmett and pull open the door.

I don't look over my shoulder as it closes.

_**xxx**_

_Dear Angela, _

_I am writing this letter to the address you enclosed last time. _

_It's been 335 days since that last time I wrote to you and you too I. _

_Yet another year is coming and closing on that date we have both come to memorize and watch for each365 days. _

_I hope this letter finds you well and happy. That you are living a good life and that what has happened doesn't still ring in your ears like it does mine. _

_Like every year I am writing to let you know that I do not blame you or any of the others for the way things happened or for how you reacted. _

_It is human nature to save oneself, something I know all too well. _

_I know this will not reach you until after the day we are dreading but I hope when you do read this it brings comfort in knowing that you are safe and always will be. _

_Give my love to all the girls, and tell them not to worry about me. _

_364 days until I write again. _

_Bella. _

"What are you writing?" I don't look up from the page as Edward's boots crunch of the crumbling asphalt and ice of the bridge.

"A letter" I say and fold the page up sticking it away with the ones I written for Alice.

"To who?" he asks and sits beside me on the rail.

"A friend" I say and look up at him. "You take the tunnels?"

"Nah, walked the back alley's" my heart jumps into my throat. "I can see the wheels in your head turning, don't worry, I made sure no one was following me, and circled three extra blocks before moving on my way. Your home is safe."

I let out a breath and mutter my thanks.

Silence crawls along us as we watch the dray horizon.

"You write often?" asks Edward.

"Every day."

"To?"

"Everyone."

"They write back?"

I shake my head "No, most of them don't."

"Not your parents?"

"Especially my parents."

"I heard your mom was pregnant" he says after a while.

"You have heard right."

"So you're going to be a big sister" he nudges me in the shoulder.

"Some big sister" I scoff "they won't tell him about me."

"Him?"

"I feel better calling him a boy then an 'it'."

"As you should" he chuckles before pausing "how'd you find about it?"

"My parents didn't grace me with the news if that's what you mean." I stop, looking down at the ground before raising my eyes to his "Alice told me."

Edward frowns at me "You've been writing to Alice?"

I nod, frowning and look back over the water, "If I do recall, you said Alice told you I'd be at your dad's old building, so you must have known we were talking."

Edward shrugs "I know she had communicated with you once, but as far as I knew it was just that one time."

I stay silent as I chew on my lip before saying "I wrote to you once, she was supposed to give it to you."

"I didn't get it" he says and I nod.

"As is such, it's probably for the best."

"Why do you say that?"

I look him in the eyes "I told you not ejaculate prematurely on your wedding night" I deadpan and Edward chokes on his tongue. I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders "as I said, probably best you didn't read it."

Edward shakes his head at me "What else did it say?"

I look out the corner of my eye to him and raise a brow.

"It can't be any worse than the ejaculating thing can it?" I shrug my shoulders "Well?"

I sigh and shake my head. "It was a year ago" I remind him.

"You must still remember some" he urges.

I look down at my hands "Just some melancholy bullshit about never going to see the ocean, and that I hoped you had grown up but thought it unlikely that you had. Shit like that. That I hoped the wedding was good and that you didn't fuck up your wedding night."

There is silence then and it hangs heavy. "It was blue" he says then.

"What?" I turn to look at him.

"The ocean, it was blue."

"Oh" I mutter.

"But a crystalline blue. Like a sapphire within the water. It's cold at first touch, your body so heated from the sun, it's like dropping into a cool spring, and as the water closes over your head the burn of your skin fades away. Then you're moving and it's like swimming through thousands of tiny gems that shimmer just beneath the surface. And as the sun bounces against the waves and you watch as it becomes alive and breathing, moving against your skin and dancing in the heated wind." Edward pauses and looks at me.

I nod my head encouraging him to keep going.

Don't stop.

"The sand is white and it glitters even beneath the glass and if you stand at just the right angle you can see the ridged sand beneath your feet. If you go out deeper there are these tiny fish that follow you as you move, their small clear bodies barely shadows in the surfs that lap against your skin. And as you walk towards the beach the water begins to dilute, like it colour is being sucked back into the deepest parts leaving just the faint memory of the colour.

Salt lingers on your skin as you move and it burns your eyes, tracing your tongue with the sharp taste and you need to drink a bottle of water once you finally get out just to wash away the bitterness. Sand lines your scalp and your flesh tightens with the dried brine, your bathing suit is uncomfortable and a burn has already begun along your shoulders again, but you really don't notice because the sapphires that glimmer just beyond your toes is something to stand and stare at, just to watch a little bit longer because maybe, just maybe if you blink, someone will have stolen it all and you will have missed out on the most beautiful thing in the world."

Edward stops and I open my eyes, letting the picture he painted fade away as I take in the broken concrete beneath our feet and grey snow encasing the bay.

Again we slip into silence before I turn to him "thank you" I say and he nods.

"You're welcome."

"Now I really wish I had the chance to see the ocean" I say as I watch the empty road horizontal to us.

"You aren't missing much" he shrugs and I laugh, shaking my head.

Running my eyes along the road I notice men and woman making their way to the worn path along the side of the fence that leads towards the water.

"Fuck" I mutter as they move closer.

Edward turns his head and watches them too "What are they doing?"

"They're going to try and cross the ice" I say as we watch them jump the fence. "Don't watch" I say and turn away from them.

"Why not?"

"They're not going to make it" I say and push away from the railing. "People went down yesterday, the ice won't have thickened enough and the river is moving too fast anyways."

"We have to help them" he says and stands to.

"Edward" I say and shake my head "they won't listen."

"We still have to try" his eyes harden as he leans over the railing and shouts down to the group as they line up along the water's edge. "Hey!" his voice rings and they look up "you can't walk across that, it's too thin! You'll fall through!" They flip him off and laugh as they step out; cheering and pointing to their feet as they ice does nothing.

Shaking my head at their stupidity I pull on Edward's arm. "It will only hurt more" I whisper to him.

"We have to help them" he says, his voice hollow.

"They don't want our help, Edward, they want to be free."

We walk to the other side of the bridge, hoping the massive concrete divider. Not even a hundred feet away I can hear them laughing.

This time there is no cracking of the ice, nothing but the interrupted screams of the people below us, and the burst of anger that explodes from Edward's chest as he pounds his fist against the railing.

"How can you live like this?" he asks after, his voice quiet under howl of the wind.

"I'm not living Edward" he looks up "I'm surviving."

"So you're saying to survive here you have to lose everything that makes you human?" I watch his face and shake my head.

"No, I'm saying _you _have to put it away."

"And you?"

"It died" I mutter.

"So you're not human?" he shakes his head and I meet his eyes.

"Do I look human?"

He stares at me, his eyes following the lines of my face "you look broken" he finally says.

"What else is there to do here but break?" I raise my hands and sweep around us. "What do I have left to stay together for?" I look up at him and maybe I'm looking for an answer.

But all he does is shake his head because he doesn't know.

And I don't know.

So here we are, both not knowing what there is left for me to stay intact for, our hands wrapped around the frozen railing and watching the sun as it glides along the clouds.

And I wonder if he realizes that one day, once he's free and he's living his life again, I will take my last breath, and it will be on this island.

_**xxx**_

**January 18****th****, 2018 too early in the morning to know am EST**

I can hear the voices as they move outside the building. Lifting my head I glance at the bodies of the two men that lay along the floor.

Emmett is snoring loudly, his large body draped over the tipped over chair he's using as a pillow.

Edward's head is resting against the arm of the couch closest to my feet, his body slumped against the cold ground and feet turned towards the fire.

Shifting I pull my feet close to my chest and pull the thin blade from the rotting leather sheath that's buckled to my ankle. The metal whispers as I draw it and glitters in the fire light as I push myself up and walk over to the door.

Checking the deadbolts, I slide the floor lock into the drilled hole in the concrete before standing and repeat locking the other into the concrete doorframe above me.

Breathing through my nose I tilt my head and peel back the tape of the peep hole and glance out into the midnight blackness that crawls along the bricks.

Three men are weaving through the alley, their hooded faces darkened in the small amount of light the last remaining street lamps give off.

I watch as the tallest of the three motion for them to follow as he throws his body against the door across from ours.

Cursing I pull away and move towards Emmett and bend down. I push at his shoulder and press my finger to my lip when his eyes open. I tilt my head towards the door and his eyes widen and he pushes himself up.

I move over to Edward and shove his shoulder.

"What?" he whines and I shake my head when his eyes open.

"Three" I whisper to him "outside. Get dressed and pack everything you can." I stand and grab the pack Emmett tossed at me to Edward. "Hurry" he nods and pulls his sweater over his head and shoves his feet into boots before moving towards canned foods.

I lace my own boats, zip my coat and shove my belongings in my bag before rolling the blankets and throwing them to Emmett who pulls at the broken radiator along the far wall opening the small hiding spot and stuffing them all in before shoving it closed tightly again. He stands and pulls on his boots and coat as well and begins packing his stuff as well.

Zipping my bag closed I turn towards the door and hum as the footsteps of the strangers gets closer. Turning to the fire, I open the door and douse the flames with the slush in the bucket beside it and move towards Edward, handing him the metal rod we had been using as a fire poker.

Emmett himself already as his own knife unsheathed and held tightly in his hands, his big body facing the door.

"When they come" I whisper to them "don't try and kill them, just run. And don't stop" I nod to the shadows of their faces before turning to watch the door vibrate against the pressure outside.

"It's blocked!" one of them yells as they heave against the locks.

"No shit!" the other mocks.

"Just fucking help me" the first growls and the door bangs again.

I can hear the old stone begin to crack under the pressure and I cruse the cheap products used in this end of the city.

Harder and harder they throw their bodies at the door, first the aged metal top and bottom locks crack, their rusty iron bodies groaning as the door is smashed against the latches. Then the deadbolt holders' crack away from the stone, the industrial screws shattering as the door bursts from the frame, the heavy metal body slamming against the wall and the cold winter air screaming through the wide opening.

Their bodies shadow the light that would have leaked through the door as they stare into the black room before them.

"Shit, I can't see anything, hand me the light" says one of them.

Breathing through my nose, I don't wait for them to notice us, and race forward, my knife pressed against my forearm, the flat edge against my skin. Slamming between two bodies, I feel their weights shift as my momentum throws us off balance, the blade of the knife slashing against flesh as they teeter backwards.

Bracing my body, the two men slip on the ice covered stairs and fall to the ground. My jaw snaps shut from impact, rattling my teeth. I can hear their breath whoosh from their lungs as the collision thrums through our bodies.

Trying to shake the dizziness I press my torso up and slide my feet beneath me, righting myself. My legs shake as I stand and move to run around the two sprawled men. One of the guys I brought down wraps a hand around my ankle, jerking it from under my body and spending me sprawling through the rot ridden snow.

"Fuck" I groan and jerk my ankle around, kicking my other out to find purchase.

Someone wraps hands under my arms and hauls me up, their hands pinching my skin. I move to pull away, raising my knife when a soft voices whispers "No time to be lying down on the job" and wraps his hand around my unarmed one, pulling me down the alley.

Edward doesn't let go when we exit the mouth of the backstreet and turn left running away from the manhole I had been using for the better part of three months to go home.

Pushing away the sadness of losing yet another home I focus on the beat of our feet and the huff of Emmett as he struggles to keep up with us.

Turning left again we're running down a wide open road near the old Meat Packing District and towards the harbour.

The smell of brine reaches my nose before the black waters come into view. The moon reflects against the waters, the crescent half waving against the laps of the water. Edward releases my hand and stops, resting his hands on his knees he tries to slow his breathing, while Emmett is wheezing behind us, his ass sat right in the snow.

"You okay?" I ask Emmett and he shakes his head.

"Either I'm really out of shape or this is what having a heart attack feels like" he presses his hand to his heart and drops his head.

"You _are_ out of shape" I say and shake my head "you're having a panic attack" I press my lips together "try and breathe deeply and put your head between your knees."

Glancing at a huffing Edward I move over to him "Alright?"

"I will be" he wheezes and I nod, shifting from foot to foot.

"Thank you" I mutter, and he raises his head "for what you did back there, you didn't have to."

Edward's face hardens "I couldn't just leave you there, Bella" he says, his voice heavy.

"Yes" I say "you could have, but you didn't so thank you."

Edward shakes his head before looking away from me and towards the old shipping warehouses.

"Home sweet home" he says and moves towards the only building without broken windows.

I sigh, looking over at panicking Emmett before following him over to the giant tin building "For now."

"I'm fine, by the way" calls Emmett and I wave my hand over my shoulder.

Somewhere I can hear the screams of anger as agony splits someone's skin. Shiver's sliding along the column of my spine and imbed at the tip of my tailbone.

I try to push away the thoughts of the Carns as they move through the streets, so blinded by hunger that the cold that stains their skin black doesn't even register.

"Bella!" calls Edward and I lift my head "I found a way in, come on" I rub my face and follow his voice, listening as Emmett drags his fat ass behind me and we enter yet another place we hope to make a home in.

Even if it for a day.

As we slip through the crack in the heavy sliding doors I silently hope that when we wake again we're all still alive.

Something I never had to wish before I ever stepped onto the island and something I haven't stopped wishing since my feet first touched the crumbling tarmac beneath my feet.

_Please, let me live another day. _

* * *

**Hello all! Hope you liked this. **

**Let me know if you did? Or didn't. **

**Massive hugs and peace. **


	4. Necrophobia

**S.M owns all characters. **

**All mistakes are my own. **

**Necrophobia- Fear of death or dead things.**

* * *

**December 15****th**** 2017, 9:54 am EST**

_Dear Mrs. Rosalie McCartney,_

_These words are being composed from a very small island with a very large population. _

_Eight months of the year when the gates are open, people are sentenced to this place._

_More than thirty each week, and more than a four hundred every three months._

_They are transferred from all over the world and one by one a city within a dead city grows. _

_We have never met, and therefore we never will. _

_You do not know who I am, who I was, or who I will become, but I have grown to know who you are. _

_The way you liked to sing in the mornings, and how you liked your coffee. _

_The way you looked on your wedding day, and the way your tears had made him smile even more. _

_I have never been in love, and I never will know what it's like to wake up to the person you love most in the world. _

_But I imagine it to be something you don't just throw away. _

_I met Emmett on a very hot day, in the beginning of my new life. _

_We did not speak, nor did we look each other in the eyes._

_He had been another face in a faceless crowd, and I had been just another body in a sea of them. _

_Though at the time I would forget, we had stood beside each other, and watched as the people we travelled with crossed the barriers and became part of the island. _

_It would not be for a very long time that I would set my eyes upon his face again, and it would take even longer before I would come to find out about the love he had left behind. _

_It wouldn't be for almost a year until I learned your name. _

_And even longer until I learned that you had given up on him. _

_I didn't know it when I first set my eyes on him, but he would come to save my life one day. _

_At night, he still murmurs your name. Like a prayer, he looks at his hands and mutters his apologies to you like you can hear his whispered words. _

_And he hangs his head when he thinks of you, his face so drawn I could sketch the sharp angles of despair that line his bones._

_I have never been in love, and I will never know the pain of what it's like to fall asleep wishing to wake up to the person you love most in world. _

_But I imagine it's a kind of pain that has no words, that cuts so deep, and burrows so heavily in your heart that it's like your slowly rotting from the inside. _

_A kind of pain that leaves you scared. _

_Something you will always carry with you. _

_A reminder that even the ones you love can hurt you. _

_And that most of the time, they are the ones that cut the deepest._

_And leave the worst scars. _

**June 2****nd****, 2016 5:56 pm EST**

Behind me, someone is breathing against my neck.

Lazy swirls of heat weave through my hair and linger along my skin as moisture clings to the flesh stretched across the tip of my spinal cord.

Tightening my shoulders, I stare ahead at the dust that dances within the crisscrossed shapes of light.

"You will not speak" barks the man who stands at the front of the rusting city bus. "You will be placed in a line, and you will not move" His face is to pale against the black of his uniform. Pulled over his bones like someone is tugging against his flesh, I can see the way his back is tight against the strain of standing straight as the bus wobbles along the broken asphalt. His eyes draw along the rows of inmates "Your Keeper will not remove your cuffs until the gates are closed" his pupils dilate as sketches of sun draw along his angled face "any prisoners who attempts escape will be shot on sight."

Around me, people are cursing against the gags that were forced between gritted teeth, their red faces pinched against the heat that leaks through the metal bars that line the cracked windows.

Beside me is my Keeper who will cut my plastic cable ties once we cross the gates. The index finger of his right hand taps against the plastic loop of the scissors on his hip.

I watch as his throat moves and he pulls his hand away, tucking his twitching fingers between his knees and turning to watch the man in black at the front.

The driver has his head bent towards the wheel, his balding head shinning in the sun that lays against the metal skeletons that line the horizon. Within his caged box, sweat streaks his forehead and dampens the fabric beneath his arms.

He breathes through his mouth, puckering his lips as he turns away from the road to glance at his watch and mutter to the man beside him.

The guard nods but doesn't turn to look at the driver. He fixes his gaze slightly above the heads of the inmates and stares down the length of the bus, his fingers dancing along the pearl handle of the pistol that sits cradled in the leather holster on his hip.

Moisture lines his temple as the heat begins to drag along our limbs, pulling at the cloths that lay against our warming flesh.

Scents whirl around my head, decay heavy as it lingers against the bodies of the men and women traveling to the island.

Putrid body odor and urine begin to sweep around us and I turn and press my head against the cracking glass, pushing against the sickness as it begins to stir within my empty stomach.

The bus jumps, the worn tires lurching against the crumbling roads as we move towards the bridge.

Slowing to a stop, the driver leans over, unlocking the cage around his window and sliding the glass over to speak to the black uniformed guard who sits in the old toll both, his head tipped back as he looks lazily upon the new shipment.

He nods, his fingers dancing over button before the first gate buzzes and the metal netting lifts upwards, opening a doorway for the vehicle.

Watching as we move, I count the taunt cables that sway slightly in the blistering breeze as they sweep towards the arching lines of metal above us.

Turning, I watch the broken teeth like buildings protruding from the concrete gums grow, their ragged bodies reaching towards a burning sky.

My jaw aches against the wooden dowel that's clamped between my teeth, my bones throbbing with my heartbeat. I can still taste the disinfectants that linger along the grains, their chemical smells moving across my tongue as I shift my jowl.

Again the bus slows, the driver unlocking his gate and speaking the man in the booth beside us. The guard mutters something back before speaking into the small radio that's pinned to his shoulder. Static reaches my ears but he bobs his head and presses the buzzer to unlock the second gate.

Pulling through slowly, the driver maneuvers the bus across the old lanes and parks.

Around me, people are screaming. I can hear their muffled cries as their Keepers stand and cut the second cable ties that held our bound hands to the bars that arch across the backs of the seats in front of us.

My Keeper's hands shake slightly as he reaches over me and slips the blade under the thick plastic, running the cold metal across my thin skin of my wrists.

Breathing through his nose, he cuts and pulls back quickly, clenching the scissors in one and grabbing at my bound hands with the other. Hauling me up, he pulls me forward and into the aisle.

Beneath the waves of aftershave I can smell the perspiration that lines his temple, the sharp tang of fear lingering along his hair line as he shifts nervously at my side.

Curses fill the air as someone manages to rip their gag from their face, screaming at the men in uniforms and wrenching at the hands that hold him.

My Keeper presses his knee against the back of my legs and forces me forwards, his grip of my hands stopping my body from toppling forwards.

"Move" his voice snaps, the word shaking at the end and he presses me forwards again until my legs stiffen and my feet work under my body, walking us to the front of the bus behind the line of inmates who have been forced into the aisle to.

Stepping down the steep stairs I am turned to the left and marched to the far side, away from the bus and lined with my back facing the water that stretches out behind us.

Wind whips against my hair, cooling the heat that had begun to build, and tangling it around my face.

Four men stand before us, sleek guns pointed at struggling chests, the long barrels shinning in the summer sun and reflecting on the patchwork pavement.

The man who rode with us moves to stand between the men, his hand still at his hip as he waits for the last Keepers to transfer their charges to the line, and move to stand behind us.

"One by one you will be moved to the cages." His eyes move away from us and fall on the last gate and the ten metal mesh boxes that line the towering fence. "Once inside, the cage will lock." Running my eyes along the doors of the cages I trace the metal latches that line the seams. "You will place your hands through the slot and your cuff will be cut." I eye the small rectangle hacked between the crisscrossed metal and turn back to the man "the opposite door will open and you will are to exit within thirty seconds" he turns back to the lineup and presses his lips together. "Failure to comply will result in serious consequences, and will be handled swiftly."

The man nods and the inmate at the beginning of the row is pushed forwards by his Keeper and moved towards the first cage.

Walking stiffly, he turns his head and sneers at the man behind him before his face is smashed by the butt of the gun held in the hands of the guard closest to them. Blood wells up along his eyebrow and begins to slide along his slick skin, staining the flesh along his cheek bone pink.

His Keeper grunts and pulls at the buckle that holds our gags in place. Ripping it from the prisoner's teeth, he places his hand in the middle of the man's back and pushes him forwards.

As they near, the cage hisses and the door opens on its own.

The Keeper thrusts the man inside and steps away as the doors slam shut. The latches snap over the joints as the inmate pulls back to throw himself at the locked door. Screaming at the Keeper, his face pulled as anger swirls through his feature.

As soon as his skin meets the metal I hear the sharp crackle of electrify vibrate through the air. His body jerks, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a scream before he crumples to the ground.

The guard in front of us turns away from the broken man, shaking his head, his lips pulled over his teeth in disgust "The cages are electrically charged, activated on connect, your body will receive .01 amps for twenty seconds." He looks at the man and back at us "very painful."

Across the asphalt I can hear the man gasping, his body shuddering with the last of the electricity that courses through his blood stream.

The guard turns to the woman who stands at the end of the line "Next."

Her Keeper pushes her forward, his hand wrapped around her arm as he jerks her towards her cage. Unsnapping her gag he pulls it from between her lips and pushes her into the enclosure and steps away.

The woman stands in the middle of the metal box, her arm pressed tightly against her thin body, her eyes running over the steel in front of her face. If she were to reach her arms out her side, her fingers would press against the sides.

I watch as Keepers move their inmates to the cages one by one until the last is filled and ten faces stare back at me behind the charged metal.

"Cuffs" says the guard in front the remaining line "Don't touch the cage" he warns the prisoners, a hint of a smile playing on his thin lips and my stomach tightens as I watch the trembling hands slid through the thin opening, offering hands to the people outside.

Their cuffs are cut and trembling fingers are pulled back inside as the Keepers step away.

Then I hear the scream of an alarm as the cages are opened from the other side.

It echoes across the bridge, the sound running over the metal cables thrumming through my ears. Clenching my teeth, I shake my head against the sounds that pound along my temple.

The alarm cuts off as suddenly as it come on and the people stare at doors that have swung forwards, until a steady beep begins; counting the seconds they have to move.

_Beep. _

29.

_Beep._

28.

_Beep._

27

Bodies lurch, stuttering limbs pulling them away from the danger of the cage.

Blinking back the pain in my head I watch as the man in the first cage pull himself up and drag his body across the threshold, his bones shuddering under his weight.

The metal clangs as the doors meet their frames, and lock once again.

There is no welcome speech, or people waiting to cuff them again and take them to their reserved cell. As soon as the last door closes the guard turns away from them and looks back at us because they no longer exist to him.

I watch the backs of the ten people who are now on the island look behind them, their eyes moving over the guns before they smile, throwing screaming into the air, they race away from the gate, feet pounding down the ramp and over the broken roads, throwing themselves into the dying island.

Breathing through the fear that has begun to trickle along my throat, I focus on tarmac the sun has heated and the warmth that weaves through the soles of my shoes. The way it winds around my pant covered legs, causing moisture to break out along my skin.

Beside me, the man is moved. His hulking body towers over his Keeper, shadowing the smaller man but he moves without assistance and without disobedience.

When they near the cage he bends slightly and his Keeper unsnaps his gag pulling it from his mouth and motioning him to his cage. Pulling his arms against his sides me steps inside and watches the latches snap.

Behind me, my Keeper wraps my arm in his sweating hand, jerking me away from the line and towards the cages.

His grip tightens, grinding the bones in my forearm together and I clench my teeth against the wood in my mouth.

The wind dances around us, the soft breeze plucking at the slick strands of hair that rest on my forehead and throwing them around my face.

Beneath the fabric of my shirt I can feel my heart beat a tattoo into my skin causing my breathing to jump and stammer as I am moved towards the cages.

Stopping, the Keeper pulls at the snaps behind my head and tug the dowel from between my teeth and looping it around his wrist. My jaw screams as his hand quickly lands on my arm again and he pulls me forward, dropping me as fasts as he touched me when the door opens and he pushes me in.

The door latches and I stand in the middle of the space, the hair on my arms rising as the electricity hums around my body before shutting off.

Six more are moved to the cages before we are told to place our hands outside our cage.

Breathing through my drying lips I carefully slip my hands between the metal and hold them to my Keeper. His fingers wrap around my wrist while his other works on the tie around my hands.

Once the blades work their way through the thick plastic he steps away from me and I tug my hands back to my body, resisting the urge to rub my raw wrists.

This time, when the alarm sounds I know it's going to fill the silence and I grit my teeth against the sounds that echo, forcing my hands to remain at my sides.

As the last notes of the shrill sound fade the door behind me swings open and I turn to watch the metal hinges creak slightly.

The beeping begins and the people around me move quickly, tucking their arms to their sides and moving through the doors.

I stand, staring as they look around, their smiles tugging at their faces. They take in the crumbling buildings and skeletal bones of past lives and see happiness.

Looking around, I see nothing but death.

Around me I can hear the beep accelerate.

_Beep, beep, beep._

17, 16, 15.

_Beep, beep, beep._

14, 13, 12.

_Beepbeepbeep._

11,10,9

Someone stands before me, a body blocking the city from my eyes. Their hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist, jerking me forward.

My feet stumble beneath me, and my knees smack against the stone under us.

"Are you fucking stupid!" a man shout at me and drop my hand like I burned them.

Shaking their head, they step away from me and turn to run down the slopping asphalt.

I watch until they become very small.

And then disappear.

Behind me I hear the doors close and the black dressed guard telling the next group of Keepers to move their inmates forward.

Struggles begin, the sounds rolling around like dust until I can hear the screams of someone, their voice reaching out and wrapping around my throat.

I turn and watch as a man jerks away from his Keeper and swings his bound fists up, clipping the guards jaw and sending him reeling.

The man doesn't stop to look around as he turns and runs towards the side of the bridge. His feet jumping over the old stone dividers and racing to the edge.

Behind him, a guard takes aim.

His face pinched as he eyes the back of the man running. His hands are steady as his finger runs the length of the trigger.

I open my mouth but the shot rings forth, drowning my voice and filling the world with gunpowder and noise.

It hits its target and the man flings forward, his body tumbling with the impact and folding over the railing. His voice rips from his body as he screams, his frame shuddering.

Guards move towards the body, their heavy boots crunching as they move.

The other inmates struggle against the holds of their Keepers.

I watch the blood being to stain the grey of his t-shirt.

Slowly blooming from the ragged bullet hole, he paints the concrete rail red.

**January 19****th****, 2018 Just before dawn am EST**

As I breathe I can see the white shadows my exhales leave.

They drift up towards the barren ceiling before fading into blackness.

Around me, I can hear the steady breathing of Edward, his back pressed against the wall beside me, his head lolled forward, and fingers tucked under his arms.

Across from us, Emmett turns on his side, his face buried in his backpack and legs pulled up to his chest.

Outside I can hear the howl of the wind as it bangs against the large bay door as rain begins to pelt against the film across the windows.

Closing my eyes, I turn away from the murky moonlight and rest my head along the iced wall.

"How many people have tried to cross the ice since you've been here?" asks the man beside me, his joints cracking as he shifts against the stone floor.

"A lot" I whisper, tucking my chin into the collar of my coat.

"And they've all…?"

"Died."

"Who notifies their families?" he asks me and I scoff.

"No one."

"So they will never know that they died on the island?"

"No, they'll know, just won't know how, or when. Once their sentence is over and they don't appear officially that person is dead. There be papers that state they died in prison and their will most likely be a funeral, but there will be no body, and a family will be mourning an empty casket"

"And no one questions it, that there isn't a body" he frowns, the movement pulling the skin across his cheeks tight.

"Think about it, Edward. Your desperate enough to risk crossing the ice, your sentence isn't just five, ten years and you're tired of waiting. It's your life and you don't remember which is worse anymore. Dying on frozen land, or drowning in frozen water. Those aren't the type of souls people miss or look for."

After that, Edward doesn't say anything for a long time, leaving the moon to drop in silence and the sun to peek over the horizon and disappear into the clouds alone.

"And what about you?" he mutters, his voice rough.

"Me?"

"Have you forgotten which is worst?"

I don't turn to look into the eyes I know are searching for an answer.

Shaking my head, I press my lips together "No, I haven't forgotten" I meet his eyes "it's just that some days, what's worse and what's better switch places."

Silence then, "I don't know how to take that" he murmurs and I snort.

"You don't have to take it any way" I shrug and turn to look at Emmett, his face contorting with his dreams. "We've all got things that other people can't understand."

Edward follows my eyes, his lips pressed together "You've know him a long time?"

"A while."

"So you trust him?"

"With my life" I sigh and look back at Edward "Just ask me."

"Ask what?"

I roll my eyes "Edward, I'm not stupid, I know what you're thinking so grow some balls and just ask."

Huffing he turns away from me, his cheeks colouring, he asks, gruffly "Sleeping with him?"

I shake my head, my lips tugging "He's married."

"So you and he, never…?"

"No" I say and roll my eyes "Emmett helped me out and I stuck to him. Trust me, half the time he probably wishes I'd disappear."

"More than half the time" mutters Emmett and I chuckle.

Pushing himself up, I notice as he shoves his shaking hands into his pockets and rolls his shoulders "Saved her skinny ass from some big bad guys in the South End. Haven't been able to ditch her since."

"You'd be lost without me" I retort.

Emmett grins and wiggles his eyebrows at Edward as he says "don't let her fool you though, she wishes she could have all of this" his shoulder shaking his body.

"Oh please," I look at Edward, rolling my eyes "He ain't my type, to damn annoying."

"I resent that" says Emmett.

"I don't care." I snip and turn to my backpack, searching through the cans and pulling out my notebook and dictionary. "I should get going" I turn to look at Emmett, pulling my lip between my teeth" I won't be gone very long."

"I'll be fine" he says and waves his hand in the air "just go."

"I can stay." I tell him

"You don't need to" he says.

Sighing, I push myself up, my knees cracking as I stand. "Two hours tops."

"Bella, I am a ass grown man, I don't need a damn babysitter, just go and do whatever it is you do."

"Fine" I huff and turn to Edward "Make sure he doesn't kill himself while I'm gone."

Emmett grumbles and mutters under his breath as I move around our bags and towards the door. Slipping my books, pen, and lighter into my pockets, I pull up my hood and step out into the roar of the rain.

Ducking my head I turn back towards the road and shove my hands into my pockets.

"Bella!"

I stop and turn to watch Edward as he jogs through the rain, his hood falling back as wind whips against us.

"What do you want?" I shout through the storm, the torrents pounding down against the tarmac in heavy sheets of icy water.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for us to spilt up right now? With everything that happened last night?" he asks once he reaches me, the water soaking his hair, plastering it to his forehead. "Maybe we should take some time to regroup."

I frown at him "I got shit to do Edward; I can't just sit around here so you can feel safe."

"That's not what I meant" he shouts, frowning at me.

Shaking my head, I look over his shoulder at the warehouse "Go back inside Edward. I'll be back soon." I turn on my heels and walk away from him.

I can hear as he shouts my name at my back, but he doesn't run after me again.

_**xxx**_

_Mom,_

_We have spent the last two years in a one sided silence. _

_With me screaming at you to listen to my pain. _

_And you, ignoring my cries as you pick out the furniture for the new nursery. _

_With time, I have come to realize that your silence while a curse, is also a blessing. _

_Like confessing my sins, I can write to you without the fear of ridicule. _

_Describe the days that scar me, and the days that are the reasons of me still breathing. _

_The day that I would officially met Emmett, was the day I watched a man jump from the roof of a building. _

_He fell with his arms out at his side, his body tipping forwards like a diver dropping to water. _

_At first, he did not scream. _

_But as the stories melted away and his descent grew smaller, I heard a cry slip from his lips. _

_Then I heard his bones cracking as his body struck the concrete. _

_It was the beginning of December, not five day into the month and snow had already encased the city. _

_My boots had been too big, and they rubbed blisters into my feet. _

_Like walking on coals. _

_As blood began to circle the broken man's body, the snow began to melt and I could see the sidewalk beneath us. _

_I shouldn't have moved closer, because it was what they wanted. _

_And I shouldn't have stopped to wait and see if he would stand because they had hoped for that to. _

_But at the time I had been naive, new to the world in which I lived in and to trusting of even the dead. _

_The pipe met the back of my skull didn't kill me, like it had the boy, but it knocked me forwards. Causing waves of sickness to swirl around my brain and fog my eyes. _

_My knees skidded across the ground, and my arms sprawled out in front of me. _

_I could hear people laughing as they moved around my body. _

_The pipe as it tapped against my body, they poked and probed at me before a boot slammed into my stomach and I cried out, curling into myself. _

"_Don't cry, pretty lady, we won't hurt you" one of them had said, as they crouched down near my head and ran a finger under my eye. _

"_You'll actually enjoy it" another said, laughing. _

_The third never said a word to me, but he laughed with the others, and it was his hands that reached towards the button of my jeans as the other flipped me onto my back._

_I must have screamed, though I don't remember actually doing it. But it made them laugh harder as two of them held my hands above my head and the other worked on my pants. _

_I remember twisting against them, my legs kicking out in search of flesh and bone, but I never actually hit them. _

_The man at my legs had managed to pull down my zipper and was tugging the fabric down my legs. _

_I remember the cold, the way it bite against my skin and numbed my thighs. _

_And I kept wondering why it was happening in the snow. _

_Not why it was happening to me, but why they choose to do it then. _

_Emmett came from behind the men holding my hands._

_The other one, too busy with his own pants, didn't look up until jagged metal was pointed at his throat. And a booming voice told him to "get the fuck up." _

_I remember the heat of the blood that had dripped from the ragged metal teeth onto my legs as the man scrambled away from my body, his eyes wide and his mouth stuttering. _

_He didn't redo the button on his fly as he held his hands up and turned, running down the street and rounding the block. _

_The two behind me, lay unconscious, shallow wounds against their skull and the blood matting their hair. _

_My breathing was too fast, and my hands shook as I lay in the snow, my bare legs burning against the cold as I stared at the man who had been in the cage beside me all those months before. _

"_Best get up, kid, no point lying in the snow half dressed." _

_I frowned then and looked at myself. "Wouldn't want to invite anything" I wheeze as I looked at my pants._

_He smiled slightly and reached a hand towards me. I eyed it, the calluses that lined his palm before placing my own in his and he heaved me upwards. _

_We didn't give names, but as he moved away from me once he finished making sure I was fine, I found myself following him. _

_At first he ignored my steps that matched his own, never turning to acknowledge me until we turned the corner to old China Town and sighed, stopped and looked at me. _

"_Creeps me out you following behind me like that" I shrank back from his heavy voice. "Walk beside me like a damn normal person." _

_That night, as I slept beside Emmett in the ancient storage room of a restaurant that still smelled of cumin and curry, he asked me if I was alright. _

_And I told him that to let things like that shape who I am is to loose who I was meant to be. _

_He had laughed at me then, but I think that he must have understood. _

_**xxx**_

Taking the steps two at a time I shout to Mr. G that I'll talk to him tomorrow, receiving nothing but a grunt before pushing open the door and walking across the slush filled foyer.

Pressing through the early morning crowds, I turn the block and head away from the centre of the island and back through the twisting roads.

Panic's pull at my throat as I move above ground towards the harbour, sharp fears tugging at the desire to turn to the left and down the subway steps.

Shaking my head, I remind myself that to take the tunnels would result in getting very lost within the dark passages.

And a vulnerability to the dangers that lurk within the shadows, that smell of decaying flesh.

Narrowing my eyes as people pass me, I tuck my head down against the rain and move down the alleys, jumping the long since turned over trash cans and dodging the rotting smells that waft through the rain.

I avoid the block where we had spent the last six months living and circle wide around to the edge of the old meat packing district, walking quickly towards the harbour. Grimacing as the smell of salt and rotting wood meet me.

Sliding the door to the side, I pull myself through the gap and wave at the two men who sit against the wall, their eyes on the small fire that licks up the salt stained wood creating weaving green flames.

"That can't be dry" I nod to the wood and Emmett grunts.

"Bitch to start" he murmurs.

"Everything go okay?" asks Edward as he looks up at me as I shake at the wet sleeves of my coat.

"Fine" I mutter and crouch in front of my bag. Unzipping my coat, I shrug it off as shivers run through my body, the cold air traveling along the skin beneath the fabric of my long sleeved shirt and raising goose bumps. Tucking my books inside, I pull out a size to big black sweater I had traded for almost a year ago and tug it over my head before slipping my arms back inside my coat and moving to sit around the fire.

I look at the two men across from me, their heads bent towards the flames. "We can't stay here, we won't survive the week" I say and Emmett snorts.

"And here I thought we were living the good life."

"Not the time Emmett" I mutter, stretching my fingers to work the ache from my bones.

"You know, there is always—"

"No" I snap, cutting him off. "Absolutely not."

"Why are we avoiding this Bella, you know just as well as I do that we're going to need to go there eventually" says Emmett, resting his chin in his hands.

"Emmett" I say, rubbing my hands along my face. "We can't. You know just as well as I do, if we go, it won't be free, it never is."

"You said it yourself Bella, we won't last a week in this shit hole, what other choice do we have?"

"There's always a choice" I snap.

"Go where?" asks Edward, his eyes following our conversation.

"To a friend's" says Emmett.

Edward looks at me "A friends?"

"We're not friends" I retort, curling my fingers into fists.

"Someone I know from the beginning" says Emmett "helped me learn the ropes when I was new."

"So he's safe?" asks Edward and Emmett snorts making Edward frown "What?"

"'He's' a 'she'" I mutter and narrow my eyes at Emmett. "And I don't want to fucking ask for her damn help."

"Come on Bell, Tan's not a bad person."

"She tried to sell me!" I shout at him.

"But the point is she _didn't_" says Emmett, pressing his lips together against a smile.

"Don't defend that bitch!" I yell at him "she tied me to a post and held an auction!"

Emmett shakes his head and looks at Edward "She's overreacting, it wasn't an _auction _and everything worked out in the end."

"Because I broke her nose" I remind him.

"So really" he says "you guys are even."

"Do you even hear yourself talk sometimes? I swear you just open your mouth and let the shit pour out."

"You wound me" laughs Emmett and nudges Edward's shoulder "You'll like Tan, she's…_talented._"

"She's a hooker" I grumble "of course she's fucking talented, who knows how many dicks she's sucked."

"Such harsh words" chuckles Emmett "really Bella, tell us how you actually feel."

"I _actually_ dislike you very much right now" I mutter, folding my arms over my chest.

Edward clears his throat, shifting his legs out in front of him "Where else could we go then?"

I shake my head I moan "I don't know."

"She could help us Bella" says Emmett "you know she could."

Groaning, I rub at my tired eyes, trying to think of another place we could go but finding nothing.

"Fine" I mutter "we'll go see her, but if she ties me to anything I'm breaking her neck."

_**xxx**_

The day I met Tanya I had been wearing clothes I had stolen from a dead body.

I smelt of soot, rot and unwashed human. My hair was matted and the cuts on my knees had begun to pus.

I walked with a limp and Emmett had to wind his arm around me to keep me up right.

It had only been days before that our little home inside the restaurant was raided and I was held at knife point.

It had been pure luck that Emmett had thought of storing the things we held most dear to us inside the wall in the building next door. A picture of his wife and his wedding band had been thrust deep into the hole behind the old deep fryer along with my notebook and small pocket knife.

Left with nothing, there wasn't much of an option anymore.

Tanya had everything you could need to survive on the island.

Her occupation, being something you can conduct anywhere, brought in a lot of supplies.

Small bottles of antiseptics that had stopped coming through the gates a year before.

Various sizes of clothing from various bodies that no longer breathed.

Canned fruits and vegetables that had come to be a luxury.

Small stubs of wax and matches.

Ancient linens and molding sleeping bags.

Lucky for her, she ran a good business, and no one fucked with her.

Tanya lives in a crumbling brick building that had once over looked the park. Big bay windows now crusted with filth filter light into the open apartment.

No furniture was left behind when the city was evacuated and the bathroom pipes no longer hold water. Warped shelves line the wall farthest from the door. The middles dipping under the weight of everything she has piled on them.

A stained mattress lies in the middle of the old living room. Musty smelling blankets strewn across the yellowing surface lie in constant disarray.

An ancient metal oil drum sits in the middle of the old kitchen producing a warm glow that smells faintly of burning hair and car exhaust.

Walking up the stairs I glare at Emmett's back, my fingers tightening along the rail as we pass the floor beneath her home.

"You okay?" asks Edward behind me and I wave him off.

"Fine."

"Bella's just being paranoid" says Emmett over his shoulder before nodding to the door as we pass "auction house."

"Excuse me for being a tad jumpy after a person tried to sell me to the highest bidder here" I snarl as I follow him up onto the landing above the auction house.

Emmett shakes his head and holds the door as we pass into the hallway and make our way to the door at the end.

Emmett knocks and steps away slightly so she can see his face in the peep hole.

Beyond the door I can hear curses before the sound of feet as someone makes their way to the door.

Shadows fill the space between the floor and door as they look out at us before clicking the multiple locks that line the seam of the door and pulling it open.

Tanya stands at the threshold in nothing but a large stained t-shirt that reaches past her knobby knees. Tangled blond hair frames her hollowed face is fury of unwashed knots.

Sharp elbows snap as she crosses her arms over her chest and looks at us with coal rimmed eyes.

"Emmett" she rasps, her voice hoarse.

"Tan" he greets and reaches over to hug her, her arms unfolding and wrapping around his broad shoulders.

They pull back and Emmett turns to introduce Edward, who holds out his hand and shakes the yellow fingers of her hand as her eyes follow the line of his body before pulling back up and smiling, showing off sordid teeth.

"A pleasure" she all but purrs.

He nods and smiles at her before pulling his hand away and looking down at me.

Tanya's lips curl as she follows his eyes "well, well, look what the Carns threw back up" she sneers.

"Hey Tan, I see the nose healed well" I glare at her, folding my arms across my chest. "Not that it's much of an improvement."

Turning away from me, her foot slaps against the ground "Emmett, you better had a good reason for being here with her" she snaps at him her glare matching my own.

Chuckling, Emmett drops a hand on my shoulder and pushes me behind him "Come on, Tan, you know how she can be, just ignore her."

"That would be like ignoring the plague" she grumbles and I lurch towards her, stopping short as Emmett's hand clamps down on my shoulder.

"That's rich coming from a disease ridden whore like yourself" I snarl tugging against Emmett's grip.

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" she spits, her eyes running down my skinny body and baggy clothes "at least I _get_ laid."

"Go to hell" I hiss.

"Alright, ladies, that's enough for now" laughs Emmett and pushes me back again. "It would seem we have found ourselves in a situation."

"And you need my help" she sneers.

"We need your help" he nods confirming.

Looking at me her lips curl over her teeth "My prices seem to have gone up suddenly."

Emmett sighs, "Come on, Tan, it's me, you know I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have any another option" he says, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder. "For old times' sake?" he asks.

Tapping her chewed nails against her arm she eyes the two men who stand in front of me before purses her lips. "I want him" she nods to Edward. "That's my price."

"No fucking way" I snap "go find some lowlife to spread your legs for if you're hard up."

"It's him, or no deal" she smiles at Edward before looking at Emmett "It'll be worth it, I've got new stuff."

"Um, I think there's been a misunderstanding" says Edward; clearing his throat "I'm uh, not for sale?" he ends it like a question, his eyes still wide.

Tanya's smile broadens "He's new" she licks her cracked lips "that's even better."

Emmett shakes his head "We aren't doing this Tan, pick something else. You know I don't deal in people."

Shaking her head, she tightens her arms around her chest "There isn't anything else, pay it or get the fuck out of my face."

Pushing past Emmett I stalk towards Tanya, my arm pulled back, and fist curling.

When my skin meets hers the sound of bone crunching makes my stomach twist before pain laces up my fist and curls around my wrist.

Tanya's screams fill my ears as Emmet wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me up and away from her lunging body.

Shaking my hand out, Tanya clutches my nose, blood staining her fingers as it drips away from the crooked bone while her knees crack against the hallway floor.

"You bitch!" she screams as Emmett walks me away, Edward in front of us. "I'll kill you!"

I raise my throbbing hand and flip her off.

"What a whore" I mutter as the door to the stairs slams behind us.

* * *

**a/n: hope you liked it!**

**Let me know :]**

**Massive hugs and peace to all. **


	5. Cyprinophobia

**S.M owns all characters**

**I own my mistakes.**

**Cyprinophobia - Fear of prostitutes**

* * *

**October 23****rd****, 2015 2:30 pm EST**

We aren't alike.

She sits beside me, but I know, we are worlds apart.

She smells like vanilla cream and sometimes it makes me sick to my stomach.

It's one of those scents that make your mouth water at the beginning, then changes and you can smell the chemicals that linger underneath that make your head begin to spin.

It's sweet until you're nauseous.

I glance at her hands as they twist, her spidery digits curling into each other as the teacher speaks somewhere outside my confection scented world.

I wonder when it was that everything he said began to make less sense to me, like a mindless noise that presses against my ears.

I wonder when I stopped caring about what he had to say.

She sighs, and I can see her collarbone as it presses against her skin above the collar of her clothing.

The classroom is hot, and the windows don't open but she doesn't remove her sweater.

There is a part of me that wants to hold her hand, to place mine on top and tell her something that will mean something.

But I won't because I don't have those words.

Relaxing her grip, she begins to tug on her sleeves, pulling them to cover her pale skin.

To hide the even whiter marks underneath.

When she looks at me, ghosts seep from her body and I am haunted by secrets I do not know the words to, and screams that have never left my lips.

I follow the webs of blood that trace over the white curve of her eye and I wonder when the last time she slept without that fear plaguing her was.

I open my mouth to tell her something but my tongue is heavy against my teeth and my brain twits in knots, stumbling over lines of meaningless comfort.

What do you say to someone to make that escape less tantalizing?

Are there words in existence that can be sewn for this moment?

She shakes her head, the hair she recently cut brushing along her cheeks in wisps of black, like a wing of a raven.

She doesn't want what I can't offer and my lungs seize against the guilt gnawing against my throat.

Around us, I can hear the teacher as he stops his speech.

"Angela?" he asks and she turns to face him. "Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

She shakes her head, her throat working against the blood that crawls along the pale column of her throat.

"Isabella?" he turns to me, the white chalk smears shine against his black dress pants.

"No" I mutter.

Mr. Webster nods, his eyes falling on us once more before turning away.

Angela watches her father as I watch her.

She pulls at her sleeves again.

To hide the scars beneath.

**January 20****th****, 2018 To Dark To Tell am EST **

The wind rips at my blistered skin and I tuck my chin deeper into my collar.

I can smell the brine in the air as it's torn from the bay and tossed into the black night dancing around my senses.

Snow clings to my under lip, crystalizing as I breathe and my legs shake against the strain to stay upright.

Clenching numb fingers I watch the black ice below me, the gaping holes that line the reflection of white churn with the wind, heaving and gasping along the frozen surface.

"Do you think about it, Isabella? Walking out onto the ice?" asks a voice from behind me

I shake my head, my fingers tightening along the railing.

"No?" they ask and chuckle "liar."

"Do you?" I snap, turning to look at them.

They shrug.

"Don't we all?"

Clenching my jaw I turn back to the water below us.

"What do you want?"

"The same" they say as they move to stand closer.

"No." I look at the woman beside me, "it will always be no."

She nods and turns to lean against the railing, her spider like limbs draped over the iced metal.

"How long does he have left?"

"A while" I mutter.

"But not forever" she says.

Grinding my teeth, I watch as the wind whips the settling snow across the frozen top below us.

"No" I say "not forever."

"He'll go home."

"Yes" I mutter.

"And you'll…"

I press my lips together, my fingers throbbing.

"You'll stay here" she says, moving her body closer to mine.

I say nothing.

"All alone, with no one to protect you."

"I don't need protection" I snap and step away.

"No?" she chuckles and I grind my teeth.

"No."

"And what will you do when you're dying in the street because there was no one there to keep watch while you slept?"

"I'll die."

"That would be a shame" she smiles at me.

I shrug "It happens."

She clicks her tongue and draws a frozen hand along my raw cheeks. "You don't always have to be so strong." I look up at her, meeting thick rimmed eyes "let me take care of you."

I wrench away from her hand and step back "You're help has a price."

"Such a small price to pay" she smiles again, showing off her yellowing teeth and blackened gums.

"No" I snap.

She sighs and draws her hand through her hair, her fingers catching in the mats. "I'm growing tired of this game we're playing."

I scoff "We aren't playing shit."

"Don't cuss" she snaps and I narrow my eyes.

"Fuck off." I turn back to watch the ice below me, my eyes tracing the faint indents of feet the falling snow has begun to fill.

My stomach rolls and I swallow past the acid that lines my throat.

Beside me, she sighs and turns to face over the railing, her face pinched before pulling into a smile.

"I've heard a rumor."

"There are a lot of those." I mutter.

"This one was very interesting."

"I'm sure it was."

"Don't you want to know?"

"Not particularly."

She scoffs beside me, pauses before saying "I heard Tanya was looking for you."

"I imagine she would be."

"And that man, the pretty one."

I narrow my eyes.

"You made quite the spectacle of yourself" she tsks.

"We had a disagreement" I mutter, my wrist throbbing as I remember.

The woman laughs beside me, shaking her head. "You always do."

I scoff "Tan's a child, wants what she can't have."

"That may be true, but we both know getting on her shit list is a bad idea."

"She'll get over it."

"And if she doesn't?" she raises a brow.

"Can't live a life of what if's" I shrug.

She sighs beside me "I wish you had more self-preservation."

"I'm sure you do" I mutter, dipping my nose against the wind as it sweeps over the broken concrete of the bridge.

Exhaling deeply she stares at the ice beneath us "I'm not arguing with you."

"No?"

"Not tonight." She sighs, shaking her head.

I shrug and turn away from her.

Blowing air from between chapped lips she moves to stand beside me, her shoulder touching mine.

"I want you to be more careful" she whispers, her words catching in the wind as it vibrates against the metal cables above us.

Pulling my body from hers I say "I always am."

"I'm serious Isabella, there have been whispers."

"Of course there have been, nobody has anything better to do then tell bullshit."

Grunting she looks at me, her eyes sharp "I don't even know why I bother."

"Honestly, I don't either."

Shaking her head she looks down at me "Emily saw a Carn above ground."

"Emily is a coke addict who's been going through withdrawal."

"She knows what she saw" she insists.

"Did you see it too?"

A pause before she sighs "No."

"Everybody's on edge right now, with the gates opening in a month people got their shit twisted way up" I look at her.

"This hasn't got shit to do with the gates opening" she snaps and turns away from me. "I'm telling you, something's wrong, you'd be best to remember that."

I fold my arms over my chest and watch as she moves to the middle of the bridge before turning to look at me. "About our deal?"

I press my lips together. "Collecting?"

She shakes her head, her grim mask pulling as she smiles "Not tonight."

"I'm tired of waiting" I tell her.

"You'll have to live with it for a little longer I'm afraid. Still haven't quite figured out what I want."

"Will you ever?" I mutter and she laughs.

"Of course, I always collect" she winks.

"I'm not going to be around forever, Victoria."

"Somehow, Isabella, I imagine you'll be around when it's time" she smiles as she turns and walks away. "Until we meet again; always a pleasure." she calls before disappearing.

**_xxx_**

"You left" he mutters and I nod "why?"

I look at him as he pulls himself up against the wall of the warehouse. "Business" I say as I move to slide down beside him.

"What kind?"

I turn my head against the stone and look at him "Mine."

He presses his lips together before nodding and turning to face the door.

Silence begins to fill the frosted room and my spine shudders against the cold.

"We can't spend another night here" he says and I nod.

"I know."

"Any ideas" he asks and I snort.

"Of course."

"Any _good _ideas?"

My lips tip and shake my head "Not really."

Edward sighs beside me and looks down at his tucked fingers "Maybe we should have taken Tanya's deal."

I scoff and look across the space at Emmett as he snores against the stone pillar. "You want to fuck a whore?"

Edward chokes and looks at me "Of course not."

"Well, that's what would have happened if we'd had taken the deal."

"At least we'd have a place to stay."

"Trust me, Edward, making a deal with a whore is a bad idea, you always loose."

"And what you would suggest is a better choice?" he snaps at me.

"Anything" I retort and glare at the wall away from me. "Anything is better than that, you would regret it the rest of your life."

"That's not for you to decide!" he shouts, his voice ringing through the room.

"Would you two please shut the fuck up?" grumbles Emmett as his back cracks against the post.

"Why are we even arguing about this?" I look at him, "you want to get off, go back and fuck to your every desire, no one's stopping you, just don't use me as an excuse to why you want to get your dick wet."

"That's not it at all, and you know it" he snaps, his eyes hard.

"Well I'm failing to see as to why else we're even discussing this."

"Because you don't see anyone's point but your own" he argues, his jaw popping as he grinds his teeth.

"You wanna go sell yourself to the highest bidder?" I snap, turning to look at him "'cause that's what would have happened if you had gone with Tan. She'd have kept you chained to the wall and only fed you enough to keep you awake_. _And by the time she was finally done with you, she would have sold you off. Maybe to a woman, but most likely to a man. And it would have started all over again. You'd be nothing more than a slave and you'd _want_ to die." I turn away from him "you would have killed yourself before the first three years of your sentence were up." I pause, my finger shaking as I tuck them deeper into my pockets "Why would you want that?" It's nothing more than a whisper when it leaves my lips.

After that, we don't speak.

Again silence fills us and this time, we let it.

Lulling somewhere between the worlds, I feel the ice as it creeps along my tattered boots and frayed coat.

Outside, I watch the snow as it falls, freezing yesterday's rain into slick paths and coating the grim covered windows in a grey white.

Wind continues to rattle the glass, shaking the towering panes as the world roars outside.

"I'm meeting Jazz at Jane's tonight" murmurs Emmett across the room and I frown, pressing my lips together.

"What the fuck does he want?" I grumble.

"Got news," he mutters and crosses his arms over his chest "says he got a letter from Rose."

I breathe through my nose, pulling deeply at the arctic air before sighing and looking at him. "Emmett" I pause "You know it's going to be—"

"Yeah, Bell" he looks back at me "I know."

"Whatever she has to say I'm sure can wait until the gates open" I say softly.

"But I _can't_" his voice catches and he turns away from me, staring at the windows above our heads. "I'm going" he doesn't meet my eyes again.

"I know" I tell him "even though it's a fucking stupid idea."

Emmett chuckles then, a broken sound from a broken man "when you love someone, you rarely do anything smart" he smiles at me before it drops and he's looking at me, his eyes sad.

We're thinking the same thing.

And it makes my throat tighten.

I'll never know what he feels.

Because I'll never marry.

And I'll never love like that.

I shrug and look down at my hands.

I want to tell him it doesn't bother me.

That I want him to be happy.

But I don't think that tonight I can muster the lie.

And when I lie to Emmett, he deserves the best performance.

**_xxx_**

Once upon a time, I imagine Jane's had been a somewhat classy restaurant.

There are still the sleek leather booths, now covered in graffiti and torn at the corners where someone knifed at the seams.

The walls, once painted a glassy olive green, are now soot stained from the five ancient oil drums that sit in the corners, filling the room with smoke and a sick heat tainted with the stenches of unwashed body and vomit.

The hostess station is still intact and gutted to sit against the wall closest to the doorway which had once been the emergency exit that led to the backstreet. The once main entrances glass doors now stand broken and boarded up tightly with a thick chain looped between the handles and padlocked.

A house band sits in the corner near the old barricaded kitchen, strumming of broken strings and tin instruments, creating a metallic beat that swings around the room.

"Want a dance?" asks a woman above me, her black hair had once been blonde, her roots shinning against the sickly midnight strands that hangs over her shoulders. She smiles a vile one as she shakes her bare chest at me, swaying hips to the music around us.

"No" I grimace and pull my legs up to my chest.

"You sure I can't interest you?" she pouts before slinking closer to me "I don't mind girls" she purrs.

"Don't care, fuck off" I snap and turn away from her.

She huffs, flips me her finger and struts off to another table of blading, and potbellied men.

Shaking my head, I look around the room as the women move against the poles that were bolted to the floor some years ago.

The smell of homemade alcohol makes my pulse beat against my skull as I trace my eyes around the people inside the dank and dirty hole that is the strip club.

"How much longer?" Edward asks me, his voice strained as another woman approaches our table.

I shrug "Dunno."

He drags a hand over his face "This place is awful."

"Most of the island is" I tell him and glare at the woman.

She sneers at me but decides against us, veering to her right to another table.

"What's he doing?" Edward turns to watch Emmett greet a blond man and woman.

"Talking" I grumble as my eyes narrow at the new comers.

"You know them?"

"As well as you can know people here" I tell him and look back at the table. "The guy" I nod to the blonde man "That's Jazz. Total lackey, he works for the big guy that got Emmett sent here" I sneer at his back, watching as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a stained envelope and smoothing his fingers over the creases before handing it to Emmett.

"The girl, that's Jane. She owns the club, likes to pretend she's big shit" I scoff "got sent here for fucking tax fraud. Best to avoid them both" I look over at him, nodding towards the rest of the crowd "best to avoid all of this shit, it's a bad scene."

Edward nods slightly before frowning and looking at me "What do you mean 'got Emmett sent here'?"

Pressing lips into a narrow line I nod to the table across from us "Emmett's a good guy. To trusting and easy to manipulate but a good guy. Sometimes we meet people who take our weakness and use them against us. And when you love someone, you'll do anything for them" I frown and look at Edward "he deserves so much better than her, you know, he's got a lot to give but even the most generous of us can only give so much before we run dry. Emmett ran dry before she was ready, he got in tight with bad people and they used him. Now he's here, she's out there and happily fucking the big bad boss last I heard. And they all lived not so happily ever after."

"That's pretty fucked up" he says and I snort.

"Yeah" I say "it is."

"So now what?"

"Ten years go by and Emmett's free to go. Hopefully he'll stay away from her and everything that goes with her, but he won't" I shake my head "he loves her too much for his own good."

"Some would say that it's romantic."

I raise a brow at him "Some have never had to sleep in their own urine to stay warm before."

I turn away to watch Emmett as he folds the letter between his fingers and nods to Jazz before standing up and walking back to our table.

"Done?" I ask.

He nods "for now."

I frown as I push out of the booth and turn to look at Jazz. His flaxen eyes find mine and he smiles, curls his fingers and waves as we weave through the bodies. I twist my lips and turn away from him, pushing past and woman who steps in front of us and past the man who stands guard at the door.

"Isabella" says a voice behind me as I move to the door.

"I'm busy" I mutter as I push away from the hand that clasps around me wrist and over the threshold.

The clubs night crowd has begun to seep through the cracks, littering the alley with filthy bodies all waiting to be let in.

Weaving through the men and women, we walk with our heads down.

I know he's following us as we round the corner and walk out onto the empty street.

"Go away, Peter" I say "I'm not in the mood."

"Got a message" he tells me and walks faster to cut off my path.

I sigh as I stop; looking down at the small man, I fold my arms over my chest.

"What?"

The mess of brown hair that hangs over his forehead and down his back is tangled and matted against his hollowed cheeks.

Sunken eyes and frail bones press against pale skin encrusted in a thick layer of filth.

He fidgets in front of me, his feet twisting against the asphalt as his lips kink over his yellow teeth.

"Peter" I snap and he jumps, nodding to himself.

"Right" he says "right."

"Yes, right." I sigh he continues to nod "Just tell me, Peter."

"She wants you" he whispers and giggles, his tiny shoulders shaking against the heavy fabric of his coat in hysterics.

"What she got you on?" I frown at his dilated pupils and he shrugs as his giggles begin to subside.

"Dunno" he licks his lips "makes me feel warm."

"I bet it does" I grumble. "She feeding you?"

"Course" he tells me and looks over his shoulder. "Better hurry, doesn't like being kept waiting."

I sigh, "I'm aware." Pinching the bridge of my nose, I look down at him "I just saw her this morning, what could she possible want with me now?"

Peter shrugs his shoulders and looks at Emmett and Edward and back at me "Don't question" he says and moves to walk around me. "You got an hour."

"Whatever" I mutter and watch as he skids around us and runs down the empty street, his boots echoing through the block.

"You saw Vic this morning?" asks Emmett as he moves to stand beside me, Edward mirroring him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask" I shrug and turn to follow Peter's foot prints.

**_xxx_**

Sighing as I move to the backdoor, I raise my fist and pound against the heavy metal wall.

I can hear people behind it as they shuffle, some running to hide, others cleaning up the obvious evidence before one moves to unlatch the door and pull it inwards.

A small woman looks up at me, her hair cut close to her scalp as a result of when lice had swept through this part of town.

Like Peter she sports hollow cheeks and protruding bones as she curves her lips in a sneer.

"Isabella" she clips and steps back into the room, motioning for me to follow.

"Emily" I nod and wave to the two men who stand outside, signalling for them to wait.

She shakes her head "They gotta come to." I frown down at her.

"Why?"

"She wants them to" she shrugs.

"They've got nothing to do with this."

"Not my call" she pokes her head out the door and curves her fingers inwards. "Come on now; don't need to be wasting the damn heat."

I can hear them as they move up the steps and over the threshold as the door slams shut behind them and the locks are slid back into place.

"Where is she?" I look at her.

"Her office" she shrugs and moves to walk in front of me.

"I know the way" and step around and down the hall.

Walking the narrow path, I can hear the voices behind each door I pass. Some cry as the other laughs, others I can hear the synchronized moans of two people as they move beyond my sight.

Grimacing, I turn down the hall, tucking my fingers into the pockets of my coat.

Old garbage cans sit along the wall, small lights flickering along the pealing walls and filling the room with a heavy smoke.

I ignore the screams that fill the hall as I walk past the second last door and push open the one that sits at the very end.

Victoria sits behind a sagging desk, her feet propped up on the wilting wood and head tossed back as she tilts the old business chair up and down.

"New girl" she nods to her door and I close it behind me. "Gave her to Victor." I frown at her as she lifts her head and shrugs. "Gotta know the worst to appreciate the best."

"You're fucking sick" I tell her and lean against the wall.

She waves her hand in the air, brushing away my words as she drops her feet and folds her arms in front of her, interlocking her fingers over the wood.

"I see Peter was able to find you" she smirks and shakes out her tangled hair over her shoulders.

"Obviously" I mutter.

"I was worried he'd have a hard time."

I shrug "Peter's resourceful."

"Indeed."

"Was there something you actually wanted, or did you just wish for me to come and see exactly what I keep saying no to?"

Ignoring me, she looks down at her desk and pulls at one of the drawers drawing angry squeals from the rusting metal and withdrawing a small piece of paper "It would seem I have found a use of you" she tells me, and smiles, curving cracked skin over her teeth.

"Oh?" I raise a brow.

"It seems I am in need of having something retrieved."

I frown at her "Something?"

She nods and leans back in her chair, the springs screaming as she moves. "It's important."

"Of course it is" I mutter and look at her "I kinda need to know what it is."

Victoria sighs before leaning over the desk, her black finger nails extending the paper towards me.

I frown and step forwards, grabbing it from her hands and turning it over to look at a smiling woman.

I shake my head, "No" the woman's smile is perfectly straight, and white, her long blonde hair pulled away from her face in a sweeping ponytail. "No fucking way."

"Language" she snaps.

Ignoring her I say "There is no way I'm doing this."

"We had a deal, Isabella" she reminds me.

"Well, deals off" I say and turn away.

Victoria sighs "I was afraid you were going to say that" and moves to stand up; walking around me she opens her door and motions for someone to come in.

Somewhere within me, I know who will walk through the door. I can hear it in the way they struggle and curse and I look over at Victoria, my face straining against the anger that builds along my teeth.

She shrugs and smiles when Emmett and Edward are thrust into the room, each with three large men behind them. "Insurance."

"How very evil villain of you" I say, my jaw popping as I grind my teeth.

I meet their eyes as they struggle, their faces red with anger behind the gags that someone forced between their teeth and arms straining against the rip ties that are tightened around their arms.

Victoria laughs and walks over to Emmett, running her finger over his cheek before moving to Edward and doing the same.

"This is very simple: do what I have asked of you, and they will be fine" she looks over her shoulder at me "don't, and I'll let Victor play with them."

I growl, my hands clenching at my sides.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is, Isabella, do what I have asked and everything will be fine" she moves towards me "When this is over, you will no longer owe me. Your debt will be paid."

I look at her "When this is _over_, I'm going to kill you" I breathe between tightened teeth.

Victoria laughs "I have no doubt you will try." She shakes her head "Now, come and sit down, we have much to discuss."

Looking over at the two men I ask "What about them?"

"For now, they will remain with me, until you have returned what I have asked then, like you, they will be free to go."

"And no one will touch them."

Victoria presses her lips together before nodding "And no one will touch them."

**_xxx_**

_Mom,_

_When you make a deal with a whore, you always loose. _

_This I have come to understand more than I ever wished to. _

_The day I met Victoria is the day I like to think I sold my soul._

_No to the Devil but to something very, very close. _

_She had found me, half-starved and fully dehydrated sometimes during the month of August. _

_Now that I think about it, I know that it was likely around that time I would have died. _

_Succumbing to the heat or becoming the next victim to whoever decided I was worth the effort. _

_I have come to understand that when your life hangs by threads that not even you are holding, you become someone you never thought was possible. _

_And you do things you never thought were possible. _

_You act in stupid ways to ensure that by that time the next day you will be among the lucky ones that were still breathing. _

_I should have known that whenever someone offers you something, you always have to pay. _

_Nothing is ever free, on even on the island. _

_It was hot that day, one of the days where you're sure that if you were to stand directly in the sun your skin would begin to bubble. _

_When she first stepped into my line of sight her hair glowed from the light. _

_Like fire encased her head, it lit up her face in shades of crimson and orange. _

_Later she would tell me I looked like a stray animal. _

_Curled tightly into myself and shivering as she stepped near me._

_Maybe that's what saved me that day. _

_Or maybe she was looking for another project. _

_Something new to keep her busy while she wasted her life away living on the island with all the rest of us. _

_When we made the deal, she didn't know who I was, or what I had done. _

_But when she finally did, it would prove nothing but to add excitement to her face. _

_Her food, water and shelter and in exchange for one favour whenever she needed it, no matter the price. _

_Looking back I know she manipulated me, played me in a way that in the end she would win._

_I would survive, but only just and she would still have that favour. _

_One she could call on whenever she wanted, because in a way she owned me from that day on. _

_When you make a deal with a whore, no matter how good it sounds, you always loose. _

**January 20****th**** 2018, Three Hours Ago EST**

"You know who she is."

I nod "Of course."

"Then you know she was with me first."

I nod again "Yes."

"He took her" she growls and I roll my eyes.

"She went willingly" I say and Victoria's eyes narrow.

"She is mine" she snaps and I lean back in my chair.

"You want me to take her back" I say and she nods, breathing through her nose and folding her fingers in front of her on her desk.

"I do."

"What if she won't come?"

"Make her" she says and I frown.

"How exactly am I supposed to get inside, get her, taking into consideration that she is likely not going to come easily, and get back out without anyone noticing?"

She shrugs "You'll figure it out."

I glare at her "And in the very likely occurrence I end up being taken hostage?"

Victoria smiles "then you would have died for a good cause."

I set my jaw as I listen to Edward curse behind me around his gag.

"Figures." I scoff shaking my head "we done?"

She flicks her hand and nods "Two days, if you aren't back by then I'll assume you're dead and those two" she looks at Emmett and Edward "are mine."

I stand, glaring at her "I'll get it done."

"I know" she smiles.

I sneer at her "Always a pleasure." And turn on my heels walking out the door and down the hall of the brothel.

**January 21****st**** 2018 Just After Midnight am EST**

I hear their footsteps before their shoulder connects with mine. My feet stumble underneath me, catching on the ice; I stagger and fall onto my knees.

"What the fuck?" I groan as my hands smash against the concrete below me. The contact makes my arms vibrate and I bit my tongue against the whine of pain that builds in my throat.

Cursing I look up at the man who's body I can barely make out as he runs down the street.

Mumbling, I push myself back onto my knees and probe at the stinging flesh of my thighs.

It's then I hear the scream.

Snapping my head up I watch as the man who pushed me over stumbles back, his pale face catching the moon light that managed to push through the clouds.

His eyes, wide and dark stare at the shadows beyond him before he steps back again.

I can hear the laugh as it bubbles through the thickened neck before I see the body.

It's a sound that echoes long after it's died and buries itself deep within your spine. Tightening your bones and keeping your body paralyzed.

Its nails scrap along the asphalt as it moves, dragging sickly white limbs behind it. Greying like decaying flesh, it twists its neck as it moves closer to the man. It's back, hunched and ridged rises like a cat as it stalks its prey. When the nights faint light shines upon its bald head, my stomach twists into itself and I heave against clenched teeth.

Where its eyes had once been, now lay bloody caverns; like someone heated a spoon and dug them from their sockets, black holes mar its marble like skin.

It opens its lipless mouth and screeches a laugh, its elongated teeth flashing.

I can't tell if it had once been a man or a woman. Its bare chest sags and its stomach seeps into the middle of itself like slowly it's caving in.

The man opens his mouth to scream, his neck working on the sound when the Carn moves. It sweeps its hand along the man's neck, its nails catching on flesh and ripping it away from the bone.

Then, what once had been a scream turns to a gurgle as the man clutches his throat.

I drop my body back to the ground as the Carn moves its hand to his stomach, disembowelling him, clenching my eyes together as his wretched screams find my skin and bury into my brain, my limbs shake as fear lines my bones and fills my stomach.

I can hear as the man's body drops and the scrap of nails as the Carn moves forward, grabs his legs and pulls the body back into the shadows.

The sharp crack of the man's skull as the Carn pulls it over to the manhole and drops the body down fills my ears as I twist my mouth.

My stomach heaves and I vomit on the ice beneath my hands.

* * *

**A/N: hope you liked it!**

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